In Spying, Love, and War
by BitterSweetTeller
Summary: After coming back from a spy mission, two spies and best friends thought they found great girls to date. But, in spying, love, and war, a certain beautiful woman coming into their lives named Lauren may not be who she seems to be. My version of the movie This Means War. Rated Teen for strong suggestive humor, spy drama, at least some suggestive content, and at least some action.
1. Chapter 1: Hong Kong and Awkward Ground

In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story

Author's Note: For everyone that really hates This Means War, I apologize in advance for making a fanfiction around it. For everyone that might have really liked it, I don't have to apologize. Either way, this is my possibly impossible attempt to make a version of This Means War that everyone can like.

Side Notes: This is my version of This Means War the movie, discounting a gross invasion of privacy and anything else unnecessary to have in this version. So, if you haven't seen or read about the movie, you can. But, it isn't required to understand this story.

Chapter 1:

One night, over Hong Kong...

A helicopter is flying over the city. Chinese skyscrapers of dark purple, gold, and pale green seem to sparkle brighter than the stars themselves.

A pale bluish green binocular like lock comes over the tactical screen.

Two pictures of similar looking men with medium very dark brown hair come off to the side of the lock.

At a C.I.A. headquarters... A woman among many guys and women is at the computers, facing this particular screen among many.

She has fairly short black hair, a yellow beady necklace, and a dark brown overcoat. Her name is Collins.

Collins reports, "all eyes are up. Sat cams are good. Target is inbound. ETA is five minutes."

On top of a silvery lined skyscraper with a mostly dark blue helicopter pad... There stand two field agents in black suits and ties.

One of them has medium frontless very dark brown hair, faint stubble around his face, and no mustache. Off the field, he goes by the nickname FDR.

The second field agent has somewhat more clean shaven frontless black hair, faint stubble around his face, and a faint mustache. Off the field, he goes by the nickname TBN or just simply Tuck.

There's a fancy party going on. Most everyone is wearing black and mingling with drinks.

Over FDR's and TBN's comlinks... Collins tells them, "your first mission is a go. Repeat, you are green to go. Intercept and apprehend the Heinrich brothers. Secure the device. And remember spy cadets, this mission is covert. You mess this up, you'll be hoping for King Kong himself to break through your bars."

The transmission cuts off.

They both shake their heads, looking annoyed.

They head inside.

The walls are mostly light red. Gold banners make up the pillars and sections of the ceiling.

A almost sun like ball hangs from the center of the ceiling, illuminating most of the floor with light. Abstract paintings of black splotches, mostly green, and angelic clouds mostly line the walls. The chiming dance music is kind of loud.

FDR and TBN faintly smile, catching sight of some girls close to the bar.

One has a metal studded very dark blue vest, red lipstick, and has long dyed orangish red hair with a straight trim in front. The other girl with her has her dark brown hair tied in a bun, wears a black sleeveless dress, and holds a black cell phone and pager.

With a soft spoken voice a little rough on the edges... FDR confidently says, "I've got some action."

With some natural thickness in his voice... TBN kind of confidently comments, "yeah. Better not the giant sized kind."

FDR very faintly chuckles. He adds, "yep."

They head to the bar area, right between most of the doors in and out.

Right away... The woman with the metal studded very dark vest introduces herself to them, "hi. My name is Xenia."

TBN says, "pleased to meet you. I'm Dean."

FDR says, "Frank Castol."

TBN first shakes Xenia's hand. Then, FDR shakes her hand.

Xenia adds, "this is my public relations agent. But, don't mind her. She just mostly takes notes."

FDR very faintly laughs. He figures, "noted."

He kisses Xenia's hand before he lets go.

Xenia very faintly chuckles.

She then brings up, "so what brings you to Hong Kong? Business or pleasure?"

FDR quickly says, "pleasure." TBN quickly says, "business."

With a slight turn to TBN... FDR adds, "a little of both."

Xenia asks, "what kind then, if you don't mind my asking?"

FDR answers, "not even slightly. I am a cruise ship captain of a very large vessel. I have a kick ass agent of my own: Only in travel."

He briefly turns back to him on the last part. TBN just smiles.

Xenia supposes, "permission to come aboard, captain?"

Her PR agent then whispers something to her.

Xenia realizes, "oh right. I still got that business meeting tomorrow. Maybe we can go easy on the drinks?"

Then, from the corner of his eye... TBN notices the helicopter starting to land on the helicopter pad.

TBN concludes, "on that note... Will you excuse us for now ladies? Because I just realized our accountant is coming back out any minute, and going over the tickets before the ship takes off tomorrow would be good for work."

He puts a light but firm hand on FDR's shoulder as a hint.

FDR kind of loudly whispers, "no we don't."

TBN kind of loudly whispers back, "if we want to keep jobs, yes we do."

Not looking phased at all... Xenia firmly nods, "okay. Be back soon?"

FDR adds, "count on it."

TBN and FDR walk toward the helicopter.

Men in black suits and ties are already coming in, heading for a private room. Among them, one of the Heinrich brothers is carrying a large silver briefcase.

TBN and FDR walk into a left empty side hall, not far from the room.

They draw out pistols, keeping them by their sides as they load them.

With halves of a gold medallion... The dark red private room door is shut closed.

From the side... The guard by the door is suddenly knocked out with a gun hilt.

FDR is standing with his back to him, using his body to shield TBN from view.

TBN acts like he just stumbled and fell. And, the crowd barely even notices.

Soon as the coast is clear... TBN and FDR fast walk through the door.

Around then...

Chinese, Japanese, and American men in black suits and ties are all there and accounted for.

Among them are three black suitcases: Each carrying hundreds of millions in cash.

With noticeable disdain... One of them comments, "I see you brought your baby brother to protect you."

Karl Heinrich is holding the open silvery briefcase. He has medium frontless hair and stubble, whereas his brother standing behind him has kind of spike tipped hair in front and no stubble.

Over the black felt inside, there's a green capped gold capsule: With stuffed papers with schematics and codes for a missile system that can be invisible to all known devices and the naked eye.

The prototype's indent is also in the black felt: It's just invisible.

Karl glares. He concludes, "you know, I was thinking of putting this up to sell to the high bidder. But, now, you've made me unhappy."

The businessman was about to pull out his pistol...when Karl's brother pulls out his.

He shoots the businessman in the chest. He falls dead.

In the confusion... Karl angrily shoots his pistol at the other businessmen.

Most of them fall dead on the floor.

Some of them retreat through the back, clutching their sides. Some dark red liquid drips from behind them.

Just then... FDR and TBN barge in, pistols out and ready.

Still glaring... Karl whirls around...firing shots at them too in seconds.

Bullets make holes in the door.

FDR and TBN duck by a black couch. The shots barely miss them.

On the other side of the door... Security men are busy rushing everyone else out.

Karl calls out, "come on Jonas!"

Jonas is grabbing two of the black briefcases. Karl is already fast walking through a second backway, heading for a helicopter pad down some gold tinted back stairs.

A unpiloted black helicopter is already waiting for them.

TBN tumble slides into Jonas, tackling him.

The briefcases go flying.

But... Some of Karl's men come back...punching TBN down hard.

He reactively lets go, barely tumbling back to his feet with a hard groan.

Jonas and Karl run for it.

FDR spin punches around at one of Karl's men with the hilt of his pistol. He falls knocked out on the ground.

FDR then runs after Jonas and Karl.

TBN is pinned down by two men.

But...TBN tumble kicks one of them off.

The man crashes through the splintered table, groaning violently.

In a second... TBN tumble slams the other guy to the floor.

Even though he's coughing violently and with a bloody nose... He reaches for a knife.

TBN though easily shoots him several times from the floor. He falls dead.

FDR gets out on the helicopter pad.

As Karl and Jonas start to get in... FDR shoots up the navigation pad.

Karl shoves his brother out of the helicopter in time. But, Jonas is clutching his bruised side on the helicopter pad.

Karl then whirls around, shooting back at FDR.

FDR runs around the helicopter pad, coming for Jonas. The shots all miss.

Jonas shoots at FDR. But, he side steps in time.

Soon, FDR and Jonas are wrestling over their guns. Their guns shoot off aimlessly at the sky and the helicopter.

Karl is about to shoot FDR...when TBN side kicks him violently down.

Karl doubles over, violently groaning. He's clutching his side.

TBN is about ready to shoot him...when Karl from the ground suddenly violently kicks him away.

TBN slides all the way to the edge of the pad.

Looking all too satisfied... Karl turns back to FDR: Thinking TBN fell off.

TBN barely grabs on in time...coughing violently and struggling to hang on the edge.

FDR punches Jonas off...right off the pad.

He screams.

And, with a loud crash... He lands into the shattering glass of a speeding brown car.

He falls dead instantly. The car crashes into another car, causing a massive pileup.

Karl stands there, fairly stunned.

TBN is pulling himself onto the pad and back on his feet. But, he starts to slip.

FDR is about to shoot Karl right there. But...he notices TBN slipping.

FDR lowers his gun. He fast walks over to help up TBN.

As he's helping him up... Karl gets on a parachute backpack.

He calls back angrily, "this is not over!"

FDR and TBN come back to fire at him.

But...Karl is already halfway down by parachute. He's too far away.

TBN comments under his breath, "Heinrich is not happy."

Sounding more casual than he looked... FDR figures, "I'm more concerned about the boss. This was our first mission out of spy academy, and he just got away. I couldn't let you fall. But..."

He faintly sniffles, a little teary eyed.

With a assuring hand on his shoulder... TBN says, "definitely."

FDR firmly nods. He adds, "thanks."

They both walk over to the open helicopter to get the silvery briefcase.

FDR clears away some of the fallen glass with his sleeve covered arm.

As TBN gets the slivery briefcase... FDR wonders, "you think those girls are still here?"

TBN very faintly laughs. He figures, "I doubt it. Come on. I'll buy you a drink soon as we get back."

Sounding a little better... FDR comments offhandedly, "yep. Least that's something there."

The next day, in a big city somewhere in California...

FDR and TBN are in a mostly aqua blue office. They're both in black buttoned overshirts. FDR is in a light blue buttoned shirt, while TBN is in a black T-shirt.

But, as they look down nervously... Collins is addressing them, and she does not look happy.

She puts down a copy of a Chinese newspaper on a very dark blue desk. It shows on the front page the pile up from last night, with a lot of calling out people.

But, right next to the picture is a kind of zoomed in picture taken by a Chinese helicopter...of FDR and TBN getting the silvery briefcase out of the helicopter.

Collins cuttingly says, "the Heinrich mission was supposed to be covert. Thanks to you two "geniuses", the MSS and most of China are threatening to declare the five men who died in the pile up a terrorist act and start a world war. They look for most any excuse these days. But, Karl Henrich is out seeking revenge for his brother. And, because we can't take any chances with him... You're grounded until I say otherwise."

At the same time... FDR and TBN murmurs nervously, "grounded."

Not long after...

They're in their shared CIA accommodated room complex, sitting by their very dark blue desks.

Their desks are directly facing each other on opposite ends of the wide living room area.

The pool view for their pool above has been shuttered close with metal shutters. The windows on the white walls are shuttered.

The black TV set, the silvery gray boombox, the video game consoles under the TV set... Everything electric but the ceiling lights and the kitchen appliances is turned off.

The paintings of evergreens and Italian streets are just a slimmer of the outside world.

FDR and TBN groan in frustration, tapping their fingers on the empty desks and bored out of their minds.

Around then, over in a corporate skyscraper building...

The morning light looks over the city block the mostly white marble like building looks over. It's for SCG Inc: Also known as Smart Consumer Grounds Inc.

Inside of the SCG building... There's a office with bright white testing worktables and yellow warning signs on all the metallic testing equipment. The box patterns on the walls go from dark red to light yellow.

Many women and men in white lab coats, safety goggles, and yellow safety gloves are there testing products.

One certain woman with long sunny champagne blond hair tied back in a bun is testing flame resistance on some pans with a old fashioned flamethrower. Unlike the others there, she wears a buttoned up black lab coat that blends with her black pants.

With a almost southern yet cooled off voice... Lauren says to herself, "here we go."

After burning the not already burnt pan before her... She turns off the flamethrower and gets out a fire extinguisher to ensure the flames die down.

She then takes out a notepad from her lab coat and begins to jot down notes.

On the pad, she writes down:

So the Coretex has minimal damage. There's some calcining around the edges.

However, the Tempolite has damage and there's rusting around 300 degrees. So that means the Coretex gets the recommend.

At the end of the notes though, she frustratedly sighs.

And, she can't help but think:

The best product always win.

I like my job. But...even my friend Em who works here gets to skip out a bit early for the holiday weekend to go out on a date with Jerry to a alpaca farm.

Shit, I even had a boyfriend all the way through high school. When do I really get to win big?

That late afternoon, in a supermarket...

Lauren is now in a dark purple sleeveless top. Her long hair is let down, and she has a dark brown leather handbag over her shoulder with a long strap.

She's shopping around with her best friend Trish: Rolling around a shopping cart with several green glass bottles of booze kind of clinking together next to a wrapped up batch of toilet paper rolls.

Trish wears a striped blue and white T-shirt. She has her blond hair tied back in a drawn up ponytail, silvery hoop earrings, and has a dark blue handbag with a somewhat long strap over her shoulder.

Lauren sighs out loud. She goes, "ugh!"

With a kind of deep southern accent... Trish wonders, "what? Can't think of anything but Steve again?"

They both pause between aisles. Most people walking by with their carts just roll by, rushing to buy more stuff for this holiday weekend.

After a bit... Lauren blushes nervously a little.

She says, "it's just... I felt so stupid. Through high school, I left my friends and family behind to spend all my time with him. We were so happy. I day dream we're still together when no one else is around. Then I wake up."

With a uneasy look... Trish comments, "you know how many times you've told me this, Lauren?"

Awkwardly... Lauren guesses, "over 2000?"

Trish explains outright, "I'm happy to be your friend, Lauren. But...that's what I still don't get with your love life. You estimate good. You can make charts. You can tell me what detergent is good to use without looking at the label. You like your job and shit. So, why can't you be as good with getting a man if that's what you really want?"

Lauren paces nervously down the mostly vacant aisle of greeting cards. Half of them are gone from the vertical shelves.

Trish catches up, rolling the cart not far behind her.

Lauren then stops at a light blue Valentine's Day card.

But, instead of picking it up... She turns back to face Trish.

Sounding kind of desperate... Lauren says lowly, "I'm going out! Dating...meeting guys like Ken."

Trish rolls her eyes in disbelief.

She exclaims lowly, "oh please Lauren: He's the sushi guy you see every Tuesday to get takeout! And, I don't mean making out either."

Looking down... Lauren heavily sighs.

She says under her breath, "you're right. It's just... Being with someone for mostly four years before he dumped me... Heavy sigh. It's hard, Trish. It's really hard."

Trish very faintly smiles. She tries to be assuring, "but at least you're now admitting it. That's a start."

Lauren very faintly smiles back.

After a bit... Trish suggests, "that's why you should take my suggestion and start online dating. They have lots of charts and balls to test out."

Lauren very faintly chuckles at a certain word, and it wasn't charts.

Then though... She comments annoyedly, "for the 2000th time, not that again. I watch Dateline and the creeps on there for my drama shows: It doesn't mean I want to live it. I could end up in a trunk...or in a skin suit."

She looks very nervous now.

Trish moderately sighs. She says, "okay, okay. That's a little dramatic to me. The girls that go up on Dateline are like one in a hundred girls. Besides, if someone tried to kill you, I still have some contacts for some big guys that can get them to back away. Just please...at least think about it over the holidays. I know we're living together. But, do you really have anything else better to do?"

She gets out a folded up printout of a advertisement from her handbag, handing it to Lauren.

Lauren reluctantly unfolds it for a bit before putting it away in her handbag.

It says ItsFate dot net across it in polished white letters: Bordered around by yellow and purple confetti and light blue over them.

Lauren very faintly nods. Trish very faintly smiles.

That night, in FDR's and TBN's room...

Several dark green bottles of spilled half drunk booze are on the wooden floor.

Bullet holes are in some broken off pieces of wood. Their pistols are still spinning on the floor for who knows what reason.

TBN's very dark green griffon tattoos are showing on his upper arms.

And, under a shared white sheet... FDR and TBN are lying topless in front of each other, groaning kind of dizzily.

FDR murmurs, "god, I love drinking. But... Hiccup! How much did we have?"

TBN moderately sighs uncomfortably, "too much. Hiccup! Did we just...do it with each other?"

FDR comments offhandedly, "I don't know. I was too drunk to remember. Hiccup! But...did we?"

TBN wonders, "I don't know. But, you know..."

FDR kind of groggily asks, "what?"

TBN reasons, "we're bisexual and grounded. The electricity is off: Even for the bugs the CIA might have placed. You checked yourself this morning. Does it matter? We don't have the same families."

FDR looks nervous at him.

He argues, "are you kidding me? You're my best friend: We might as well be. I don't know about you sometimes. But, my nana would never forgive me for screwing a man."

In near disbelief... TBN remarks, "I don't believe you sometimes. We're secret agents, and you know she'd have strong words to say about killing for the C.I.A. How is bisexuality any different here?"

FDR faintly laughs.

After a bit... He brings up, "that's true. But...I don't really know if I want to date you. We might have grown up in different families. But, we're family. Sorry. I... I'm just not sure I can really answer that question for you."

TBN puts a assuring hand on his.

He concludes, "I think it's different here. But, okay man. Just let me know when you can."

FDR uncomfortably nods. He just says, "okay."

There's some awkward silence for who knows how long.

After that though... FDR more casually recalls, "remember that family gathering at my Nana's when you said that kind of thing is lovely?"

TBN faintly smiles. He figures, "the way your nana and grandfather looked into each other's eyes?"

With a faint smile... FDR lightly goes, "yeah. That kind of thing. I'd like to hear it again right now."

TBN faintly nods.

He recalls, "I trust you. I know you'd do anything for me. You would take a bullet for me. I would for you as well, you know that. But... Can you imagine all of that? Can you imagine what that would be like to share with a woman?"

FDR bluntly just says, "no."

TBN laughs at that.

FDR comments annoyedly, "okay. I'm lost: What's not serious about this?"

TBN slightly sighs.

Then... TBN concludes, "sorry man. It's just... Faint laugh. When has that stopped you from going after women?"

FDR very faintly smiles at that.

Kind of annoyedly... He concludes, "yeah: Except I never got far. They always end up leaving on the first date. I'd like to see you do better: Maybe give me some pointers."

TBN suddenly looks down. He gets teary eyed.

FDR asks in concern, "you want to talk about something else, Mr. Deep in Thought?"

TBN reasons solemnly, "several months ago...my ex-wife had a restraining order put on me after the karate incident. Maybe it's time we both really got back into dating with women."

They both very faintly smile.

FDR lightly remarks, "I'd toast to that. But...you know."

They both suddenly remember the spilled bottles on the floor.

TBN kind of awkwardly goes, "ohh yeah. We got to clean this up before the boss comes down."

FDR nods. He adds, "yeah. You're faster than me with this. So...good luck while I keep watch for you."

As TBN starts to get up... He comments back annoyedly, "yep. I'm so lucky."

As he puts his hand behind his head to relax more, FDR just laughs.

A week later, in Trish's and Lauren's house...

It's early dawn.

The walls are pale white. Reddish brown and gray patterned curtains are by the window.

The dining room table is metallic black with some flowers and a rectangle striped mostly red tablecloth.

The lamp is still on behind the dining room table. A set of polished wood like stairs head up. Trish's kid is sleeping upstairs.

And, sitting at the dining room table is Lauren with her purplish black cell phone out.

She looks kind of tired. She is yawing quite a bit.

She's wearing a very dark purple sleeveless top under a gray sweatshirt and has pearl like earrings.

She keeps frustratedly looking at a online profile for ItsFate dot net: With her picture on it and a header of "come and get me boys".

In the gallery, photoshopped pictures of her feeling up women and men in some swimsuits and some workout clothes are there. There's also a picture showing her doing a handstand and enjoying herself while several guys are stripping her.

Lauren sighs heavily, "oh crap."

Then... Trish comes down in a pale pink bathrobe. Her wet hair is just starting to dry.

She says, "hi. You're up early. What's...?"

With a sharp glare... Lauren gets up.

She annoyedly turns the cell phone screen to face her.

Lauren shot back lowly, "bisexual?! Skinny-dipping?! Rollerblading 1994 much? I mean, what is this? I'm going to kill you Trish!"

Caught up in the moment... She looks about ready to just throw the cell phone at her.

Trish puts up her hands like she's got a gun.

She nervously calls out, "Lauren, I'll change it back after the weekend! You didn't know what to fill out and you came to me. Guys are easy to get. After then, there's no harm done. Anyone at SCG would think it was just a internet prank. Okay?! Please just calm down."

They just stand there for a few long minutes, very nervously breathing in and out.

After a bit... Trish says with some relief, "thank you."

Lauren blushes.

Embarrassed sounding... Lauren checks, "you sure that's all they'll think at Smart Consumer Grounds?"

Trish puts a assuring hand on hers.

She insists, "yes. Besides, you look adorable in all of them. I did good photoshop."

Lauren very faintly chuckles. She replies, "yes you have. But, I was thinking of putting the stripping one up anyway. Freshman year. Those were good days."

Trish concludes, "I bet they were."

She then notices Lauren looking at her cell phone again. Lauren seems stunned.

Sounding joyful all of a sudden... Lauren says out loud, "oh my god. Wait a second."

With a faint smile... Trish lightly comments, "you already picked a guy? I'm proud of you. Give it."

Trish faintly smiles back as she hands her the cell phone to look.

Trish adds, "not my kind of guy. But, he looks nice."

Lauren says, "I think he's cute."

And, on the cell phone screen... There's TBN's own profile on ItsFate dot net.


	2. Chapter 2: Lauren in the Picture

In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story

Chapter 2:

Later that morning, in a historically preserved western saloon...

TBN is getting ready to shoot some pool with FDR.

They're by themselves. The pool table is all set up.

They're both wearing blue jeans.

FDR is wearing a white polo like T-shirt. TBN is wearing a very gray green polo like T-shirt: With some weird tattooed gibberish with O's showing over his chest and a thin metal chain around his neck.

FDR comments with some concern, "let me get this straight. You put your personal private details on a very public website? I thought you weren't risking your cover."

TBN very faintly laughs. He figures, "yes and no. I went with most of the truth: A ex-soldier named Tuck who went through post traumatic stress and checked into a mental hospital for several months. That's all."

Candidly... FDR suggests, "you sure that's not taking it too far though?"

TBN asks kind of nervously, "what do you mean?"

FDR figures, "you have your mental health put on that website. What? You think that won't bring all sorts of crazy women? Half of them are likely to get on the C.I.A. watch list."

TBN shakes his head dismissively.

He insists, "yeah. That's nothing to worry about. We're not stones you just trample on. We're spies, right?"

FDR faintly laughs.

He says solemnly, "well, you're right about that. But, we've never really gone out looking for girls since the academy. Besides, Karl Heinrich is still looking for us. Just take care while I check out girls at the rental store. Okay?"

TBN faintly laughs. He points out, "I thought you were looking for me to get first in line to date so you can get some pointers before getting back in."

FDR laughs lightly. He faintly sighs.

He remarks, "I said maybe, cheeseball. Besides, with jukebox music and a lot of DVDs to break the ice, who knows? I could get lucky."

TBN faintly smiles. He adds, "okay, man. You'll need it."

FDR kind of sarcastically mutters, "yeah, thanks."

More seriously... TBN says, "you're welcome. But...I'm kind of scared for you. You sure you don't need me on ringtone just before it's time for my date?"

FDR deduces casually, "not really. I can at least get a rental while I'm there. But...thanks Tuck."

TBN says, "anytime, FDR. Anytime. Now...are we going to just talk or play pool?"

FDR faintly laughs. He adds lightly, "I'm going to kick your ass."

He grabs up a cue stick.

TBN lightly shakes his head. He goes, "no. I'm not sold on it yet."

FDR challenges, "I can get you sold on it." TBN adds, "give me your best shot."

FDR hits two solid colored balls into a pocket with one shot. TBN then starts to make his shot.

As the sun was setting, at a Irish pub not so subtly just called the Blarney Stone...

The neon sign above the mostly red brick laid pub is a shamrock: Because of course it is.

TBN is sitting in a black wooden chair before a outside wooden table. A matching open seat is across from him.

He's kind of lying back in his seat, wearing gold rimmed black sunglasses. He also is wearing a plaid red buttoned overshirt over his very gray green polo like shirt.

Then... A familiar looking woman in a light blue sleeveless dress with white flowery patterns comes walking his way.

She has very slightly curled long sunny champagne blond hair. She's wearing Hollywood styled black sunglasses and carrying a dark brown handbag.

She asks, "Tuck: Are you Tuck?"

Tuck wonders kind of suspiciously, "maybe I am. Who wants to know?"

Lauren very faintly chuckles. She puts down her sunglasses, still holding them in one hand.

She gladly introduces herself, "hi. I'm Lauren."

Tuck puts down his sunglasses on the table. He gets up.

Looking somewhat stunned... Tuck goes, "oh my gosh. Hello. How are you?"

They shake hands before they both sit down at the table.

Kind of awkwardly... Lauren adds, "I'm ok. It's very nice to meet you."

She's finding it hard to look right at him though. But then again, so is Tuck.

A little awkwardly... Tuck says, "you too. Um...wow. I saw your pictures. But, it's like..."

Lauren smiles, looking right at him now.

She comments, "...not like seeing the real "product"? Faint chuckle. You don't know how glad I am you think so."

Tuck compliments, "you are also really, really beautiful."

Lauren blushes a little.

She wonders, "could you say that a few more times? Because you're even cuter when you talk."

They both chuckle and laugh at that, kind of grinning.

Then they both lightly sigh.

Before Tuck can add something though... Lauren admits, "although...I feel like I need to apologize for that bizarre profile."

She throws her hands up a little.

Completely unphased... Tuck starts insisting, "no, no, no."

Lauren insists back, "please let me." Tuck just says, "ok."

Lauren figures, "thank you. My friend Trish is... Heavy sigh. She means well. But, I was thinking of killing her this morning."

Tuck reasons, "oh, no. I get it. Everybody should have a cover: Case someone is watching you. Besides, you said she means well."

Lauren says, "true."

After a bit... Lauren very awkwardly says, "well... I don't usually admit this so soon. But...I don't always mind being watched or watching."

Tuck faintly laughs. Lauren faintly chuckles.

After a bit... Tuck assumes, "wait. You're a spy?"

With a playful grin... Lauren questions, "could I be?"

There's a suspicious glare forming on Tuck's face.

But... Lauren assures him, "I'm kidding! God. I meant sexually."

They laugh and chuckle loudly.

After they have some drinks...

Lauren suggests, "so tell me one thing that's not on your profile."

Tuck recollects kind of nervously, "um... I had a son and a wife. But...you really want to know?"

Lauren puts a sympathetic hand on his.

She brings up, "I know from your profile you went through some post traumatic stress. But, if you don't want to tell me..."

Tuck gets teary eyed.

He admits, "it's not that I don't want to. But...another time?"

Lauren solemnly says, "sure. I'm sure there's things you don't know about me either."

She pulls her hand away. But, she isn't going anywhere.

Lauren adds, "but...I have a very important question to ask. One you could answer."

Sounding a little better... Tuck figures, "good. Go on."

His eyes start to dry up.

Lauren questions, "have you ever been or do you ever plan on being a serial killer?"

Kind of all too casually... Tuck supposes, "well, I mean...you gotta keep your options open. But, I'd rather be a spy that kills killers before they do."

Mostly unphased... Lauren says, "okay. Fairly good answer."

They both faintly grin.

Tuck tells her, "Lauren, you're incredible."

Lauren tells him, "you're not so bad yourself Tuck."

Fifteen minutes later, at a one floor rental store called Vick's DVDs...

Lauren is standing on a moving escalator, heading below ground level into the mostly dark blue walled rental store.

Interestingly, she's got her sunglasses back on. But, she's grinning all the way down.

The eight super wide mostly black aisles are marked with two way plugged in plug styled signs over bright green: Going from Family to Collectors Editions to Drama. DVDs and Blu-Rays line the aisles.

Lauren looks through some DVDs. But, she faintly sighs with faint frustration.

She puts them back.

Then, as she's reaching for something in the Spy section... She almost bumps her hand into FDR's hand, who's also reaching for it.

Soon as they realize it... They both kind of awkwardly pull back their hands.

Lauren apologizes, "oh, I'm sorry."

Brushing it off casually... FDR insists, "no, it's okay. You take it. I was about to change my mind anyway."

He's wearing a open sleek gray black jacket over his white polo like shirt.

Lauren checks, "okay. You sure?"

FDR figures firmly, "you're not gonna like it. Twist ending you'll see coming a mile away."

With her head kind of tilted up... Lauren wonders, "and how would you know what I like?"

FDR confidently answers, "I know movies and women."

Lauren faintly grins in amusement.

She says, "really? I'm not like most women you might know. You could get disappointed with me."

FDR faintly smiles back.

He faintly laughs. Lauren faintly chuckles.

FDR then says, "mm. Is that a challenge?"

Lauren casually shrugs. She faintly smiles.

Lauren figures, "you found me in a good mood. Why not? Why don't you tell me what I want?"

She walks by him.

FDR smiles to himself just before walking by to catch up.

After a bit...

They're both standing in front of some DVDs on shelves at the end part of a aisle.

Lauren questions, "The Lady Vanishes? Why is that?"

She's holding a DVD copy of it as she asks.

FDR concludes, "well firstly, you can never go wrong with Hitchcock: Ever. It's got comedy, drama, romance, and thriller. It's classy but not stuffy. A little obscure. So, if you haven't seen it, you'll thank me for introducing you to it. If you have, you'll know what a good choice it was."

After a bit... Lauren recalls, "well, I have seen it."

FDR adds, "mm-hm."

Lauren faintly smiles. She states, "and it is a really good choice."

FDR smiles back. He goes, "mm."

Then... Lauren considers, "however, not as good as Rebecca, Notorious, Vertigo, Topaz, or pretty much other movies outside of Hitchcock's films I like. In fact, it's sort of a second tier title in my book. Sorry to kind of disappoint you."

Looking incredulous... FDR murmurs in near disbelief, "second tier?"

With a serious tone... Lauren says, "I don't mean to hurt your feelings. But, I see you surveying girls like they're DVDs to buy. The two problems are no one looks like a clean getaway, and girls don't like it when a womanizer comes in looking for easy targets."

FDR faintly nervously laughs, trying to still seem casual in front of her.

FDR asks, "what? Are you arresting me now?"

Lauren highlights, "no. You seem harmless. I'm perfectly capable of choosing my own movies. But, when you stop trying to look for easy targets and begin to really look at girls as girls, you'll find a lucky someone. Or, you'll find drama, one rental romance, and thrill on DVDs instead."

Lauren then puts back the DVD on the shelf.

She starts to walk away.

FDR is left speechless. He shakes his head in frustration.

As he starts to walk away though... Lauren suddenly turns back.

She stands facing him, making sure he catches her from the corner of his eye.

Catching the hint, FDR turns back to her.

Sounding very unsure now... FDR wonders, "what? You know where I can find her?"

Lauren faintly chuckles.

Lauren considers lightly, "well...you're cute. And, you're starting to sound like you're not trying too hard. I'll tell you what. I'll give you my number, and we'll see if you change your mind about trying to look for easy targets. Because to get me dear, you got to try harder."

FDR smiles. Lauren very faintly smiles back.

FDR concludes, "seems like a challenge. But, that's not all. You already seem to be the most interesting and thrilling woman in the room."

Lauren blushes a little. She says, "thank you."

FDR politely says, "you're welcome."

Lauren gets out her notepad from her handbag, ripping off a empty corner of it.

She gets out a pen. And over a empty part of a shelf, she writes her cell phone number on it.

Lauren then hands it to FDR. He pockets it in his open jacket.

After putting her notepad and pen back into her handbag, Lauren heads for the check out line.

On the way, she waves back to FDR.

They faintly smile to each other.

Before disappearing from sight, Lauren gets a copy of Star Wars: Return of the Jedi.

On his way up the escalator up... FDR keeps smiling.

With a clenched hand in a ka-ching like motion down... He goes, "yes!"

Late that night, in C.I.A. headquarters in California...

On a mostly rustic DVD menu styled gray screen... Data Channels 1 and 2 windows are open: One dark blue and one gray. A Hash Table Length-Extension Attack window is open.

At the computer screen... There's a technical guy with medium black hair and glasses.

The technical guy asks, "so sir, you want me to hack into a rental store database?"

Sounding somewhat nervous... FDR contemplates out loud, "I think it could very well be a drop site for a unidentified spy. It could be for the Heinrich case. I'm not sure. That's why I'm asking."

Sounding kind of nervous himself... The technical guy says, "okay. Searching database."

FDR says, "all right, keep on scrolling."

Shipping records and DVD orders for stocking up come up on the Data Channel windows.

A Hit List Cross-Reference Attack window is also up. But, it comes up blank.

The technical guy points out, "I'm looking at the shipping records. But, there's no suspicious activity: Off or on the record."

FDR faintly sighs. He holds up his head contemplatively over the chair with a arm.

FDR figures, "okay. The possibly unidentified spy gave me a number before she left. Can we trace it back to who it is?"

A little nervously... The technical guy says, "we can."

FDR stands upright, taking his arm off the chair.

He firmly nods.

FDR tells him, "I'll give you the number."

After reading off the number from the scrap of paper... The technical guy starts a search.

A dark blue bordered Internal Gov Database Cross-Reference window comes up.

Names and pictures of California residents speed down in blurs.

After a bit, it stops at a certain name and picture: Lauren's.

A address is right under her name: 6226 Placido Drive Pasadena, CA 91105 USA.

FDR points a finger at the screen.

He realizes, "that's her."

The technical guy pauses, tilting up in his chair to turn to him.

The technical guy checks, "sir...you sure Collins authorized this? I want to still keep my job."

Not so casually... FDR admits, "so do I. I want to fully check this out before filing in a report to the boss."

The technical guy drops it, "okay then."

He scrolls through her driver's license, resume, cell phone contacts...

Then, he stops at the house mortgage.

The technical guy concludes, "now this is odd."

FDR wonders, "what is odd?"

The technical guy points out, "well, look at the mortgage payments."

On the screen is one big mortgage payment of over 10,000 dollars in June 18 2010.

But, the business lawyer that oversaw the deal has a message window in red letters next to it:

Company folded. Reason pending.

Investigation open, June 18 2010. Investigation closed, June 20 2010.

Somewhat nervously... FDR realizes, "there's only one big payment from two years ago. It was under a front company that folded. No explanation."

The technical guy adds, "exactly."

The next day in the early morning, in FDR and TBN's shared room...

The private pool and windows no longer have shutters over the glass. The electricity for the TV and the boombox is back up. The room is clean.

Silver rimmed black laptops are now on their desks. Some pens, CIA ID badges, some sizable stacks of dusty CIA reports and manila folders, and their pistols are also on their desks.

FDR and TBN are sitting at their desks.

FDR wears a mostly light blue buttoned shirt with dark tan blue stripes down it. TBN wears a dark gray T-shirt.

TBN casually inquires, "what were you doing on the computer last night?"

With some nervousness... FDR says, "I have a photo of my girl."

TBN firmly smiles. He comments, "that fast? Good for you."

FDR faintly smiles.

FDR figures, "Thank you. What about you?"

Sounding a bit amused... TBN figures, "man, I was doing the same thing. My woman said I could save a copy."

With some mixed feelings... FDR admits, "sure. For me...it's not that easy."

TBN brings up, "what do you mean?"

FDR says, "I think she could very well be a spy, TBN. I had to do a background check to try to be sure. But...I'm still not."

TBN looks off put some.

He comments, "I don't know if that's really creepy or romantic."

FDR supposes, ""spymantic". She was wearing sunglasses the whole time we were talking. But, she never said her name: She just gave me her number. I found out she had one big mortage payment for her house with a business lawyer. The company folded. No explanation. The investigation was quietly buried. But, I'll be sure to file a report to the boss as soon as I know for sure what the story is."

TBN concludes, "yeah. That does sound like she could be."

Sounding more casual all a sudden... FDR figures, "yeah. But, hey: Maybe she's for the good guys."

TBN firmly smiles. He says, "yeah. Hopefully."

FDR adds, "thank you." TBN adds, "you're welcome."

FDR wonders, "wanna see?"

TBN goes, "yeah sure. Wanna see her?"

They both smile.

FDR says, "yeah. I'd like to: Even though yours is probably from space."

TBN remarks, "I bet your spy woman has got claws under her gloves and howls at the moon."

FDR jokes, "she does. But she's still incredibly attractive without gloves."

TBN faintly laughs.

He then adds, "she's a 10."

FDR eagerly suggests, "go on three. I'll sound off."

TBN says, "one, two, three and go? All right."

FDR confirms, "okay."

FDR starts counting, "One..." TBN starts counting, "one..."

FDR goes, "...two, three." TBN goes, "...two, three."

They turn around their laptops at the same time, facing the opposite desk so they can see the photos on them.

But, as they each look at the opposite laptop screen... They look stunned.

For on both laptop screens...it's the same exact close up of Lauren's face: Slightly turning to a camera and grinning.

TBN kind of nervously realizes, "that's, uh..."

FDR is quicker on the last part of his thought, "...Lauren?"

He's pointing at the laptop screen opposite him with his elbow on the desk.

TBN asks, "that's your spy woman?"

FDR recalls, "right around the corner from the pub. I met her at the DVD store."

Kind of nervously... FDR tries to be assuring, "oh wow. I...I had no idea."

A little awkwardly... TBN reasons, "of course. How could you know that?"

FDR lies back in his chair, looking down nervously.

After a bit... FDR looks up.

He figures, "you know what? I'm gonna make this really easy. I'm gonna bow out. You date her."

TBN looks at him kind of funny, with his arm kind of out over the desk.

He asks, "hang on. Didn't she say she wanted to go out with you?"

FDR nervously gulps.

He insists though, "it doesn't matter. You're my best friend, and I don't want to make it unfair to you by getting in the picture."

TBN looks right at him. He argues, "yeah. But, you're my best friend too."

Firm sounding... FDR says, "yeah. But, you go date her."

TBN looks at him a little confused. He says, "well, I'm sorry. What does that mean?"

FDR implies, "come on Tuck: What else could I mean?"

TBN gets teary eyed. He moderately sighs.

After a bit... TBN thinks out loud, "I mean...yeah: I screwed up with Katie and my son Joe. But, that doesn't matter now. We haven't really been back out dating since spy academy. And, like anything..."

FDR adds, "... practice makes perfect, pal. Kind of yeah. But.."

TBN insists back, "you don't have to bow out because of me."

FDR looks kind of surprised. He straightens up in his chair.

He checks, "I don't?

TBN bluntly remarks, "I'm not concerned that she's gonna fall in love with you, pal. She works in product testing. You're still looking for werewolves. Spy, no spy, she'll roast you really bad. I'd be concerned for your dignity."

Kind of glaringly... FDR sarcastically comments, "yeah. How "very" nice of you. Thank you."

Kind of grinning... TBN adds, "you're welcome."

FDR casually goes, "sure. So, you do your thing: Whatever that is. And, um..."

TBN finishes the thought, "...just let her decide."

FDR kind of nervously adds, "yeah." TBN kind of nervously adds, "yeah."

FDR, "while we're at it, why don't we put some ground rules in?"

More serious sounding... TBN concludes, "yep. We should. One, I think we should tell her we know each other."

FDR firmly nods. He says, "right. Good idea."

TBN then adds, "two, we stay out of each other's way with dating."

FDR goes, "all right. And three: No hanky-panky."

TBN faintly laughs.

He comments, "god. What are you, five?"

FDR briefly puts up his hands like TBN is pointing a gun at him.

He says, "hey. I could maybe still use some pointers. Cut me some slack, pal."

TBN says, "all right. And if this ever starts to affect our friendship or seriously compromise our spy work..."

FDR is quick to say, "which it won't." TBN repeats, "...which it won't..."

FDR finishes the thought, "...then we walk away."

TBN adds, "done."

FDR concludes, "so then, we...we have a gentleman's agreement."

TBN confirms, "yes. We do."

FDR lightly says, "may the best man win."

TBN adds, "the best man for Lauren."

FDR figures nervously, "right. For the lady, for her, the best man for Lauren."

There's a awkward silence.

FDR moderately sighs.

TBN asks, "what's wrong?"

FDR realizes, "I can't ask you for pointers now, can I?"

TBN laughs.

Sounding a little amused... He points out, "sorry man. But, we just agreed. Too late now."

FDR mutters kind of annoyedly, "damn."


	3. Chapter 3: Missed Calls and Rope Nets

In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story

Chapter 3:

Into the late afternoon, at a carnival by the docks...

Festive music is playing: From the light red concession stands to the very light blue midways. Crowds of little children and their parents are going on the two mostly dark red tilt-a-whirls, the Ferris wheel, and several other rides lining the open dock area.

Lauren is grinning wide as she's walking hand in hand with Tuck.

Lauren is wearing a dark red detective like jacket with black buttoned pockets over her concealed top and blue jeans. Tuck is wearing a open buttoned dark blue army jacket.

Lauren says, "oh my god, I love these places."

Tuck faintly laughs.

He says, "I thought you might like it. And, we're not gonna leave until we've spent quite some tokens."

Lauren pauses.

Before Tuck can say something though... She says something.

With her free hand playfully tracing over his army jacket sleeve... Lauren wonders, "I'm not against just quite a bit. But, why not a lot? Why not until it gets dark?"

Tuck faintly laughs. Lauren faintly chuckles.

After a bit... Tuck considers, "I have something else I'd like to show you. And, because you're dating me and my best friend until you decide, I don't want to leave him out in the cold."

Lauren smiles. She concludes, "ohh. How considerate of you."

Lauren and Tuck continue walking to the midways.

Yet, over Tuck's black cell phone's screen... There's two unanswered messages.

There's no ringtone. It's just vibrating in his pockets.

Meanwhile, not far off from C.I.A. headquarters...

There's a answering machine:

Hello.

Sorry. I'm not in.

Please leave a message after the tone. I'll get back to you as soon as possible.

A beep goes off.

On the other end... FDR is nervously sitting back at his desk, impatiently tapping his fingers on the desk. He's holding his cell phone with his other hand.

FDR leaves another message, "yeah, Tuck? Tuck?! Damnit. Where are you man? We have a mission!"

Just then... Collins comes in: Shutting the door to FDR's and Tuck's shared room from behind.

Collins presses tensely, "FDR. What the hell are you still doing in your office space?"

FDR puts down his silvery rimmed mostly black cell phone, almost slamming it.

He frustratedly comments, "apparently nothing. I thought Tuck would pick up."

Collins moderately sighs. She states, "sorry. I'd pick you out a partner if there was one available. But, we're near out of time to keep a GPS lock on international smuggler Ivan Sokolov before he gets out of range and flies out of L.A. I'll be sure to brief you about Tuck. But, you got to get out there on your own for this mission."

Looking fairly stunned... FDR goes, "wow. Um...yeah. I hope he's ok. I'll get going."

Collins adds, "good."

On his way out the door though... FDR turns back to her briefly.

He suggests, "not even agent Dive Chair?"

Collins very faintly smirks.

She answers, "she's away on Operation Red Bikini. Sorry."

FDR mutters, "figures."

He then walks out, closing the door behind him.

Meanwhile...

Lauren and Tuck are taking turns throwing darts at light colored balloons for popping.

Lauren gets five. Tuck gets six.

Lauren misses a few. But, they're both faintly smiling to each other most all the while.

Around then, in a nightclub in L.A...

Ivan is sitting in a backroom at a black table. He's with his poker buddies, mostly all muscular and all wearing open dark blue jackets.

He has medium dark brown hair, gold studded earrings, and "LIVE" tattooed in blue ink across the knuckles of one of his hand. He wears a black jacket and a white undershirt reeking of sweatshops.

By the back way... FDR is walking to it.

He has a kind of old fashioned silvery watch on. But, the center has a light up red arrow pointing the way to Ivan: Coordinated with C.I.A. GPS triangulation.

It changes direction accordingly, turning to directly face the backdoor.

Around then, in a corporate building somewhere...

The sun is setting through the large windows. The walls are mostly pale tan.

The light gray tiled halls are mostly vacant for the weekend. But, some C.I.A. guys in black suits are guarding the perimeter around a certain office.

Still walking hand in hand... Lauren and Tuck are walking in.

In Tuck's red car in the parking lot... A inflatable light and dark swirled pink dog from the midways is in the back.

Lauren nervously wonders, "okay. Where are we going?"

Tuck faintly smiles. He kind of jokingly says, "I train lions here. You're safe with me."

Lauren faintly chuckles. She comments, "no. I don't see or smell any lions."

Tuck faintly smiles. He adds, "not now, no."

Lauren chuckles. Tuck faintly laughs.

With no questions asked, one of them opens the light blue office door for Tuck.

Tuck just says to him, "thank you."

He leads Lauren in. The man at the door closes it behind them.

It's pitch black. But, a light switch is barely visible to the right.

Lauren wonders, "are you serious?"

Tuck tells her, "close your eyes."

Lauren kind of reluctantly puts her hands over her eyes.

Tuck flips the light switch.

The light is bright for a bit. Then...

Tuck says, "okay. You can open them."

Lauren pulls her hands away and opens her eyes.

Before them is a set of stairs going down to basement level...where there's a towering rope jungle gym held up by metal poles in a spider web like hourglass shape.

Dark blue lights line the metal plated circus like pentagon of a arena. Rope trapezes on cables and pulleys automatically run up and down the metal poles in sloped circuits. Dark blue mats cover the floor.

Black tarps are over dark gray government issue crates with C.I.A. logoed locks on them. They're filled with rifles, grenades, and spy watches.

Lauren tears up a little. But, she's also grinning.

She expresses, "wow. It's so beautiful. Thank you."

Tuck wraps a arm around her, pulling her in close by his side.

He kisses her cheek.

Lauren blushes a little, smiling back at him.

Tuck adds, "you're welcome."

Lauren wonders, "I have just one question. Why is there a giant corporate testing facility down here for focus testing?"

Tuck faintly shrugs.

He comments, "what else? Maybe rope nets. I don't really ask. FDR has good connections."

Around then, back at the nightclub...

Past the strippers by the gold pole putting on a show... Past the wooden round tables, glass bottles of wine and beer bottles, and the crowd of betters and onlookers... The song It Ain't Over by Southpaw Swagger is in the middle of playing.

A bouncer in a black suit and tie is forcibly escorting FDR out.

Sounding drunk all a sudden... FDR murmurs, "I just wanted a drink an...to the queen...king...whoever..."

The bouncer mutters with contempt, "yeah yeah. Go bother someone else, drunk."

Just before they get to the front door though... FDR punches him down easy under his belt.

The bouncer crouches down on his side, clutching over and crying out in indescribable pain.

The kind of sharp yellow lights over by the front door make it hard for the crowd to see much of FDR's face or the bouncer. But, most all of them are getting up: Fairly shocked.

FDR fires off a warning shot from his pistol.

Acting angry... He calls out to the crowd, "you get one warning!"

The crowd runs like hell, screaming.

Several other bouncers are struggling to usher everyone out and themselves.

FDR then punches out the bouncer still on the floor. He falls unconscious.

Then... Ivan and his poker buddies come out from the backroom.

They all get out rifles. And, they all fire.

FDR tumble slides out of range.

Many bullets make holes in the walls and gold tinted railing.

On his side on the floor... FDR kind of spins back around with his pistol.

He shoots one of Ivan's men in the leg.

He stumbles down, groaning violently.

He cries out, "bollocks!"

He drops his rifle, clutching his dark red liquid dripping leg.

FDR very faintly smiles. He adds, "ouch."

Around then, back in the C.I.A. facility...

Lauren faintly chuckles.

She observes, "yeah. Some focus testing."

After a bit... Tuck suggests, "come on."

Lauren figures, "we get to go up there? That's awesome."

Tuck faintly smiles. Tuck adds, "yeah."

Soon, they're racing each other to the rope jungle gym.

They've taken off their jackets, leaving them on the mats.

They're climbing up higher and higher for the upper rope web.

Halfway up, Lauren stops to take some heavy breaths.

She keeps a kind of shaky grip on the ropes. She's a little sweaty, and so is her light blue sleeveless top.

Tuck pauses, turning to her right by him.

He checks kind of nervously, "you all right?"

Lauren questions nervously, "you're gonna catch me if I fall, right?"

Tuck mostly assures, "yeah. Absolutely."

Lauren faintly nods. She faintly smiles.

She adds, "okay."

After some more heavy breathing... She and Tuck keep climbing up.

Tuck barely pulls himself up to the center of the rope webs, ready to take a breather against the upper rope web. He's somewhat sweaty all over.

Then... Lauren's now sweaty hand slips.

She struggles to pull herself up over to the center of the rope webs with one hand and two legs. But, her other hand is quickly slipping.

She screams...as she starts to fall fast.

Tuck calls out worriedly, "Lauren!"

He jumps down after her.

In a blur... He pulls her close to him in midair.

And, from the corner of his eye... He keeps a eye on where the nearest automatic trapeze is.

With his other arm, he grabs the automatic trapeze.

The momentum and combined weight almost shakes Tuck off. But, he keeps his grip.

The momentum steadies more and more. The automatic trapeze keeps climbing up around the center of the rope web.

Lauren opens her eyes. She's faintly teary eyed.

She sighs in great relief. She very faintly chuckles.

She goes, "oh my gosh. That was scary."

Tuck apologizes, "I'm sorry. Just now...I thought you were going to the hospital."

He's getting teary eyed. He faintly sniffles.

Lauren tries to assure, "no, it's ok. You didn't let me fall. That's what's important. Besides...sometimes almost falling is the best part."

Tuck very faintly smiles. Tuck tells her, "okay. Keep holding on to me."

As the automatic trapeze comes over the upper rope web... Tuck suddenly swings off.

Lauren lightly screams as they both come down fast.

They both land in the rope web.

But, with both arms behind him... Tuck makes sure to shield her with his body against it.

Lauren gets off of him, holding onto some rope herself.

Tuck groans violently a little. His arms have rope burns along them.

Just as quickly, he reorients himself: With one arm still holding a firm grip on the ropes and his legs against some ropes.

Lauren checks worriedly, "oh my god. Are you ok?"

She reaches out a sympathetic hand to Tuck's arm. But, Tuck puts a sympathetic hand on hers instead.

Tuck concludes, "oh that? They're okay. I've seen worse in Afghanistan."

He finds it hard to look at her though. Some silent tears fall from his face.

Lauren points out solemnly, "I didn't mean your arms, Tuck. What's really tormenting you?"

Realizing first though both their arms are getting tired... They climb down to the bottom of the upper rope web.

They lie down over it, breathing a little easier.

Then... Tuck finally answers, "I was thinking...about the karate incident."

Lauren puts a sympathetic hand on his.

Awkwardly... Lauren thinks out loud, "what was that? I... Moderate sigh. I'm sorry. I don't know about it. But...yeah. I'd like it if you could tell me. That's what I'm trying to say."

Tuck looks a little confused at her at first. But, he very faintly nods at the last part.

Tuck solemnly says, "okay."

In his head...

Blurry flashes go by of a mostly pale white tiled martial arts arena, with a medium black haired guy with a beard and mustache on a stretcher.

He's severely bruised in multiple places. He's coughing up dark red liquid and falling unconscious fast.

Paramedics try to stabilize his condition with surgery then and there.

The kids at the karate class are running scared to their parents, who are waiting out in the grass surrounded parking lot.

Among them is a teary eyed mother named Katie. She has long very dark brown curly hair and a pale tan business coat. Her very shaken son named Joe has medium dark blond hair and his karate gi still on.

And, off to the corner of the martial arts arena... Tuck is silently sobbing, clutching his hands with faint dark red liquid around them.

Presently...

Nervously... Tuck reveals, "after my time in Afghanistan...there were images. I came back to my wife and four year old son. But, those images... They can't be shaken easy. Several months ago, there was a father with his kid. Full of it... Faint sniffle. ...but not a killer. We had a little karate competition with our sons. My son lost. But, no one was...like I was then."

Tuck takes a heavy breath.

He then reveals, "he... Faint sniffle! He playfully punched me. He said pain is just weakness leaving the body and that it makes you stronger. But...then the images came back. All I heard were bombings, screaming kids... Faint sniffle! I thought I was being interrogated by the Taliban. Next thing I remember...was the ambulance coming with a stretcher. He almost didn't make it. But, he never forgot. My wife divorced me and filed a restraining order. Weeks ago, I got out of the mental hospital okay. But... Faint sniffle! I don't think I'll get to see Joe again. I can't really blame them though."

Lauren looks stunned. Some tears fall from her face.

She murmurs nervously, "wow. Faint sniffle. I'm...I'm really sorry, Tuck."

After a bit... Tuck reflects, "thank you. It's been hard after the war. But... Faint sniffle. If you also want to walk away...I can't really blame you."

There's a nervous silence.

But... Lauren doesn't let go of his hand.

She wipes away most of the teariness in her eyes with her other hand.

Solemnly... Lauren assures, "you don't seem like a serial killer to me. Maybe you kind of were close to it once, Tuck. But... Faint sniffle. ...you seem so better now. Even when we first met, I could see it."

Tuck says, "thank you Lauren. For me...it means a lot."

Lauren adds, "you're welcome."

She suddenly admits, "besides... Faint sniffle! I've seen some things I can't forget."

Tuck asks, "wait. You mean you really are a spy?"

Lauren faintly chuckles.

She asks back, "what? You really think I could be?"

With nervousness... Tuck just answers, "I don't know. It's a big city."

With some mixed feelings... Lauren adds, "yeah. It can be."

Then... They just lie there against the rope web for who knows how long.

Around then, back at the nightclub...

Ivan's men suddenly pause.

Before he can react... FDR is grabbed up by one of Ivan's men from behind.

At the same time, he calls out angrily, "you little bugger! Get up!"

FDR tries to swing his pistol at him. But, he just tightens his grip around FDR.

FDR groans violently a little. His pistol goes flying.

In the struggle... FDR kind of back jumps against the railing behind them...crashing them both through it.

They fall on the vacant wood dance floor below.

The guy by FDR has fallen unconscious. His head is heavily bruised.

FDR stumbles back to his feet, clutching his aching bruised side.

But, just as he does... Ivan backhands him.

FDR falls unconscious on the floor.

Ivan laughs. He mutters, "I love when the agents get sloppy. Gotta be C.I.A. or some crap. Leave him."

Some of his men smirk to themselves.

Soon, they're heading out the door...leaving FDR's body handcuffed against the gold pole.

That night, at C.I.A. headquarters...

FDR is storming out of a silvery elevator. Concrete bunker walls line the hall.

The handcuffs are gone. But, FDR is clutching the faint purplish bruise over his forehead: Still groaning violently a little from his injuries.

TBN steps out of the elevator just before it closes behind him.

TBN calls out, "FDR! Wait. It's not what..."

FDR whirls around, glaring angrily at him. He shouts back, "well damn you! I cannot believe you stood me up on a mission!"

He clenches his fists with his arms up over his chest briefly. He then starts storming off again.

TBN mutters, "hey. I thought if it was that important, Collins would call."

FDR mutters back, "I don't believe you. Your phone was on vibrate. Or, was it you mixed up my call with what's under your pants? That was a date, and you know it!"

FDR is already halfway to the metallic gray door to their room.

TBN pauses. He heavily sighs.

FDR is about to open the door. But, he pauses.

He cuttingly remarks, "I'm calling to tell Lauren I'm taking a cold shower first. I'm not cancelling. Faint laugh. Oh right: I already took one. Now I got to get another. Don't wait up."

He opens the door.

Very nervously... Tuck calls back, "FDR."

FDR whirls around.

With a sharp glare... He mutters lowly, "what?!"

TBN gets teary eyed.

He brings up, "you can be angry at me. But... Heavy sigh. You're really going out to see her with all those bruises?"

FDR lowly mutters, "yes!"

With that... He slams the door shut behind him.

TBN shakes his head. He looks down, sighing heavily.

And, as he walks away... He mutters nervously under his breath, "don't get yourself killed, pal."


	4. Chapter 4: Blurring Recon Lines

In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story

Chapter 4:

Forty or so minutes later...

FDR is driving down the street in a silvery dark blue car, looking like a mini-rocket ship with the exhausts back there. He wears a formal gray business suit, all ironed out with a fancy collared purplish pink shirt under it.

And, in the co-pilot seat is Lauren.

She's wearing a sleek gray black jacket and a dark purple sleeveless dress under it. She also has her handbag over her shoulder.

FDR wonders kind of nervously, "what's wrong? You seem restless."

Lauren moderately sighs.

She points out, "I'm getting worried. You have a bruise on your head. So, I get it if you didn't want to show. You sure you're okay?"

Trying to be all casual... FDR insists, "thank you. But, really: It's nothing."

Lauren kind of defeatedly says, "if you think so. But, don't blame me if people come and ask you."

FDR concludes determinedly, "not where we're going. I'm in good with a nightclub. I called in. We can go around the back: No questions asked."

Lauren very faintly chuckles. She comments, "you really have thought of that spot on your head. I'm kind of surprised."

FDR faintly smiles. He adds, "you're welcome. It's the Shakalongo. You're going to love this place, I swear."

Lauren very faintly smiles. She says, "we'll see."

But already, her eyes are nervously drifting elsewhere.

Not long after, at the Shakalongo nightclub...

There's disco tinfoil like walls with little glare. The seats and booths have pale yellow cushioning with light green lines down them.

The staff is wearing sleek very dark green suits and pants. Lots of young people are dancing and swaying their asses to the song Look Sharp by Joe Jackson.

There's a dark green wall section with several bronze statues of figures holding up globes behind the bar. A backdoor is right by the bar.

FDR and Lauren have a private table in front of the bar. Some empty wine glasses are there.

After talking some to the bar attendant and the DJ... FDR has brought over a then opened glass bottle of wine.

He politely says, "would you like some, my lady?"

Lauren very faintly smiles. She politely says, "sorry FDR. I'm not thirsty now. Maybe a little later."

FDR adds, "sure. Sure. I'm going to have some though."

He pours some wine into his glass. He puts down the glass bottle of wine.

FDR wonders, "are you okay? Because you seem more uptight now than I thought you were."

With some mixed feelings, Lauren moderately sighs. She gets teary eyed.

She brings up, "please don't tell me that spot on your head is nothing."

FDR asks nervously, "okay. What do you want me to tell you?"

Lauren starts to say, "FDR..."

She moderately sighs again. She gets teary eyed.

After a bit... Lauren kind of nervously confesses, "I need to be honest. I know you mean well. I know you're probably trying to protect me. But, if Tuck wasn't your best friend, I would just think you have the emotional intelligence of a fifteen year old boy."

Thinking back to recent events... FDR gets teary eyed.

His fists are clenched under the table. But, he thinks twice before raising them.

He murmurs nervously, "and what does that mean you think of me now?"

Lauren figures, "I'm trying to say I know better. But, what I'm also trying to say is..."

Sounding a little better... FDR asks solemnly, "yeah?"

He's unclenched his fists, letting his arms up over the table.

Lauren heavily sighs.

She puts a sympathetic hand on his.

And... She says, "let me make this easy for you to understand FDR: I worry a lot. Faint sniffle. Also for people I care about. If you can't even tell me something about why you got hurt...can you really imagine any chance of going out with me? I can't."

FDR heavily sighs.

He says, "I'm going to get some air."

He gets up, walking out the back door. It slams shut.

Lauren leaves some money on the table.

She opens the door, trying to catch up to FDR.

FDR is already getting into his car. He's fighting the urge to cry.

But, as he starts the engine... Lauren stands in front of the car.

Still teary eyed... Lauren asks in concern, "where are you going?"

After a bit... FDR looks up.

He faintly sniffles.

FDR admits, "there's a lot I want to tell you. But... Faint sniffle. You could get killed if you know. I don't think you can handle it."

Then... Lauren goes wide eyed.

She realizes, "oh my god, I know why now. Faint sniffle! The testing facility, your bruise... You're spies."

There's a nervous silence.

Some tears fall from Lauren's face. She sniffles hard.

Some tears fall from FDR's face. But, he's trying very hard to ignore them.

After a bit... FDR says, "um... Okay. Faint sniffle. I know you have questions. I know I have questions. But, could we call it a night?"

Sounding a little better... Lauren says, "yeah. It's okay."

FDR very faintly smiles. Teariness starts to dry up from his eyes.

As Lauren is turning to get back in FDR's car though... She sees from across the street someone she knows...or at least knew.

It's her ex-boyfriend Steve, walking hand in hand with a woman with long black curly hair. He has medium kind of clean shaven black hair and stubble and a mustache.

A engagement ring is glistening on the woman's finger. And, Lauren knows they're very likely in love.

Lauren gets in the car.

FDR starts to drive away.

But, as he does... He sees from the corner of his eye Lauren is looking down very nervously and shakily.

Lauren is sitting on her hands, struggling to control herself in the seat.

FDR asks in concern, "what's wrong?"

Lauren suddenly whispers, "Steve... I mean... Moderate sigh. Pull over."

Not sure what else to say right now... FDR just says, "okay."

He pulls over by a available spot down a street.

Lauren unbuckles her seatbelt and unbuckles his.

All of a sudden... She's wrapping her arms around him and puckering up her lips.

FDR reactively restrains her arms with his arms around her arms. Her hands are still reaching for him like crazy.

Looking very confused... FDR asks, "why are y... Are you bipolar?"

After a bit... Lauren sighs heavily.

Her hands relax a little.

Lauren starts to say very nervously, "no. I'm sorry. Just..."

She moderately sighs.

After a bit... Lauren admits, "I know this is weird and the last thing you could be thinking of now. But... Hard sniffle! I'll feel better if you just kiss me right now."

FDR lets go of her arms.

FDR very faintly chuckles.

He kind of nervously comments, "yeah. I can see that. But, are you crazy?"

Lauren faintly rolls her eyes kind of annoyedly.

She whispers in his ear, "just kiss me, you sentimental fool."

FDR can't help but faintly chuckle at that.

Soon... They're wrapping their arms around each other.

They pull each other into a kiss.

They're making out quite a bit in the car.

They're about to start taking off their clothes.

Then...they suddenly remember how they got there.

They pull away.

FDR awkwardly clears his throat.

FDR adds, "I think I'm adding to my questions you owe me a explanation for what just happened."

Lauren comments awkwardly, "yeah. I owe you a lot of explanation. But...thank you."

She blushes a little, despite the lingering teariness in her eyes from everything else.

They both straighten up and buckle up.

With some amusement... FDR concludes, "sure. Maybe you're crazy. But...you don't seem too crazy. Coming from me, that's plenty."

Lauren faintly chuckles.

She then kind of repeats herself, "I owe you and Tuck a lot of explanation. But...thank you."

FDR very faintly nods.

FDR drives away with Lauren, heading to her house.

The rest of the way is silent.

But, what they don't see...is a C.I.A. issue white painted drone: High up in the night sky, silently following them.

The next morning, at C.I.A. headquarters...

Looking somewhat better... FDR is wearing a black suit and tie.

He's walking past grids of spy surveillance monitors.

Some private surveillance camera control rooms are off to the sides. Technical guys are closing the doors behind them as they go in.

FDR very faintly smiles, seeing a bald and bulky looking C.I.A. operative in a black cushioned wheeled chair.

He politely says, "good morning."

The operative faintly smiles back.

He says, "good morning sir. You look better than last night when you were going to the nightclub. We're just glad you're okay."

FDR's face suddenly hardens. He gets teary eyed.

The operative asks in concern, "FDR, is something...?"

FDR doesn't answer.

He storms off for the nearest elevator, not looking back.

He mutters back, "shut up, Bothwick."

The operative sighs heavily into his hand. He doesn't know what more he can say.

Shortly after, in FDR's and Tuck's shared room...

FDR slams the door shut on his way in.

He glares in TBN's direction. He's still teary eyed.

TBN gets up from his desk. He's wearing a kind of open dark blue collared shirt.

Concerned... He starts to ask, "FDR? What...?"

Before he can react... FDR slams him against the wall.

One of the paintings falls down.

TBN doubles over, coughing a little.

FDR pinpoints, "you reconned my date!"

TBN gets back up, facing him.

He sighs heavily.

He tries to explain, "I...I'm sorry. But FDR, I was worried about you. If she took you out as a spy, wouldn't that be worse for the C.I.A?"

FDR heavily sighs.

He begrudgingly thinks out loud, "damn. I think you're right."

TBN very faintly smiles. He adds, "thank you."

Sounding a little better... FDR kind of nervously says, "thank you for being ready to go into action to save my ass."

TBN faintly chuckles.

He adds, "you're welcome."

FDR and TBN hug each other.

When they pull away, they both faintly smile.

TBN kind of nervously questions, "so...are we going to be okay?"

FDR concludes, "yeah. We're best friends. Just be sure to leave your phone on ringtone from now on, and you can both be annoyed for me calling you 24/7. Deal?"

TBN faintly nods. He faintly chuckles.

He adds, "deal."

They shake on it.

FDR sits back down at his desk, ready to get back to work.

FDR is walking out the door.

Just before he does though... He turns back to face TBN.

TBN questions casually, "was there something else you wanted to tell me?"

Sounding suspicious... FDR is quick to ask, "um, yeah. Who else knows about our...?"

TBN mostly assures, "just me, man. I only told the guys about the nightclub: Not Lauren."

FDR adds kind of nervously, "good. That's good. But..."

TBN asks, "what?"

FDR brings up, "were you really not spying the whole time we were kissing?"

Kind of nervously... TBN is quick to say, "what? No, no..."

Somewhat coldly... FDR concludes, "you did."

FDR starts to glare.

TBN very faintly chuckles.

FDR asks lowly, "what's funny about this? This is serious!"

Casually all of a sudden... TBN brings up, "hey man. She said she doesn't always mind being watched. Her words."

He taps down by the open laptop's keyboard several times for some reason.

FDR sighs heavily.

He clenches his fists by his side.

FDR exclaims lowly, "Jesus!"

He mutters, "I don't believe this. What else are you not telling me, TBN?"

TBN tries to be assuring, "that's the only other thing. I never expected you to get much anywhere that night with all those bruises. So..."

Somewhat coldly... FDR voices, "you know what? Maybe we're still spy partners. But, this means war pal."

He storms out, slamming the door shut behind him.

TBN moderately sighs.

He tries to do some work on the laptop. But, he can't concentrate much.

After a bit... TBN gets out his cell phone.

He leaves a text message on FDR's cell phone.

It says:

I know what we can do to settle this. See me in surveillance control room 3A, 12:30 P.M.

12:30 P.M., in surveillance control room 3A...

FDR concludes, "let me get this straight. You bugged her house and you didn't tell me?"

FDR and TBN are sitting by the main computer in the room, surrounded by monitors. They're both in black cushioned wheeled chairs.

The C.I.A. logo is behind them. Strips of red lights go across the beams between walls. The tiled floor is pale yellow.

TBN explains, "no. The C.I.A. sent a team in to bug the house because we were not sure if she's a spy or not. This was late last night. With several international operations going on outside of Los Angeles, we're kind of short on agents. Collins didn't ask any questions. She just said to sort it out on our own and give her the report."

FDR faintly chuckles. He figures, "great. We even get the whole room for a week."

TBN concludes, "yeah. And, since she won't really mind being watched by us..."

FDR finishes the thought, "...she won't be too upset about this if she ever does finds out."

TBN adds, "yeah."

They both faintly smile.

TBN concludes, "we'll see about her decision soon enough."

FDR confidently figures, "yeah. We'll see."

He lies further back some in his chair.

TBN starts pressing control keys.

Voice print matches in light blue, infrared, satellite map grid feed, implanted mini-camera feed windows in full color... They're all slowly loading: With a mostly dark blue tinted loading bar on the screen at 5 percent so far.

FDR confidently says, "I think Lauren likes me more. Girls like someone who has a sensitive side."

TBN faintly sighs. He turns to him.

He comments kind of cuttingly, "they also don't like it when you worry them sick. Sorry. But, I don't think she does like you that much."

FDR solemnly concludes, "look. She surprised me too. But, she seemed incredibly capable of handling herself. She stood out in front of my car and didn't even hesitate. Faint chuckle. Yeah. I really..."

With his finger over his mouth... TBN suddenly goes, "shh."

FDR asks kind of tensely, "what?"

TBN points out, "the feed. It's up." FDR realizes, "oh. Oh, good."

The loading bar gets to 99 percent. Then... It all comes in: Including the mini-cameras feed.

On the other end of the mini-camera feed... Lauren is standing behind the metallic kitchen counter, drinking some from a glass of wine.

She has her hair straightened. She wears a grayish blue jeans like buttoned shirt, with hints of a white bra peeking out.

The metallic refrigerator is right behind her. A view of the stairs heading up and the dining room is easy to see in front of her. Two different colored bottles of wines are on the kitchen counter: One with yellowish wine and one with greenish wine.

Trish is sitting on the other side of the kitchen counter. She has her shoulder length slightly curly hair down. She's wearing a silvery watch and a mostly browned over honeycomb like sleeveless dress with black straps over her shoulders.

Lauren puts down her wine glass. She moderately sighs.

Lauren nervously says, "this is really serious. I...I can't believe this. Heavy sigh. Last month, I was single and day dreaming I'm still together with Steve a lot. Now I'm dating two gorgeous guys. I'm still trying to get over Steve...and I don't know if I'm going to be stuck single with nine cats, playing Boggle...and knitting out of shit."

Trish faintly chuckles. She comments, "Lauren, you're not going to knit out of shit."

Lauren wonders nervously, "you sure?"

Trish remarks, "I do dirty deeds and shit with many guys on my nights out while you stay and babysit. Even if you grow old here, you're still going to be much cleaner."

Lauren chuckles. Trish faintly laughs.

Lauren adds, "thank you. I needed that."

Trish adds, "you're welcome."

She drinks some of her wine.

Then, she sets it back down.

In the surveillance room... FDR looks fairly stunned. TBN is moderately groaning into his hand over mention of dirty deeds.

In Trish's and Lauren's kitchen... Trish wonders, "I still don't know if you chose one for dirty man stink: You know, the good stuff. Have you?"

Lauren very awkwardly admits, "no. I know it can't be for witness protection or taking down a no good corporate CEO. Or, either of them would have told me. But, I don't even know who they work for. Yeah: I have a good idea of the kind of people they are. But, we haven't even dated a week. How can I really choose?"

Trish moderately sighs.

She solemnly reflects, "oh my god. Maybe I don't think it's a big deal. But...I guess not everyone can be like me and get dirty man stink from a spy after knowing him for just a few days. But, hey: I had good times with my really fat husband Bob...before he died on a undercover job for the FBI."

And, off of the mini-camera feed in the surveillance room... TBN zooms in the screen on a badge on Trish's lap.

It's a F.B.I. badge: With the name Bob in gold.

FDR and TBN look stunned.

TBN murmurs, "oh god."

FDR chuckles in near disbelief.

He thinks out loud, "it was never Lauren, was it? It was her best friend's husband, and he's not even in the C.I.A. database."

Back in the kitchen... Lauren solemnly adds, "oh yeah. Right."

She heavily sighs again.

She then supposes, "okay. You know more about dating spies. What do you think I should do?"

Trish suddenly smirks.

She figures, "well, I have some ideas."

Lauren smiles.

She concludes more cheerfully, "really? Sure. Let's hear them."

Trish concludes, "well, if you want me to get this to be really easy for you... I can get FDR, and you can still go for Tuck. I think he's hot."

Back in the surveillance room... FDR moderately groans into his hands.

FDR murmurs, "no. God no."

TBN is kind of doubled over, laughing.

Back in the kitchen... Lauren shakes her head kind of annoyedly.

She concludes, "sorry. But, I'm not that not sure. I really like them."

Trish moderately sighs. She reluctantly concludes, "fine."

After a bit... Trish offers, "still... I'm available as a friend. If you want me to have sex with both of those guys...just to test out stuff, find out who they work for, and see who comes back a winner and who doesn't... They wouldn't know. I'd get a rubber mask and wig and pretend I was you."

Suddenly... Lauren nervously asks, "umm...Trish?"

Back in the surveillance room... FDR and TBN suspiciously glare in the direction of Trish in the mini-camera feeds.

TBN comments, "well, we now know better."

FDR agrees, "yeah man. That's true. Good thing for that."

Back in the kitchen... Trish wonders kind of cluelessly, "what is it?"

Suddenly... Lauren very faintly smiles.

And, she says, "did you just forget we're on their bugs?"

Sounding a little embarrassed... Trish mutters, "well, shit."

Back in the surveillance room... FDR and TBN are speechless, looking back in shock.

Lauren even waves to one of the mini-camera feeds.

After a bit, Lauren puts her hand back down. She turns back to Trish.

Lauren apologizes, "sorry."

Sounding a little better already... Trish insists, "it's okay Lauren. It's just me and my dirty deeds. But...why don't we give them something good to focus on before they might cut the feed all upset?"

Lauren faintly smiles.

She adds, "that's actually a good idea. Thank you."

After a bit... Lauren deduces awkwardly, "oh my god. It's really hard to pick good things about them right now. Could I pick flaws?"

Trish faintly laughs.

She concludes, "okay. One of them probably would think so. Even if that is what's going on with them, that makes it really easy for you."

Lauren figures, "possibly. Okay. Flaws."

In Lauren's and Trish's kitchen and the surveillance room... There's a kind of nervous silence among all of them.

After a minute... Lauren thinks out loud, "FDR... He comes off like he only cares about himself to protect himself and anyone else he cares about. He really means well. But... Heavy sigh. It's like he has this protective ice shield in a flamethrower test."

Looking stunned... Trish murmurs, "shit. So he's close to melting ice."

Lauren gets teary eyed.

Lauren very awkwardly says, "well... Heavy sigh. It's possibly the most incredible protective shield I ever could see in a guy. But...yeah. Faint sniffle! I'm still really worried for him."

In the surveillance room... FDR moderately sighs in his hands.

TBN faintly laughs.

He comments, "hey, I tried to tell you she was going to roast you. You did it to yourself."

After a bit... FDR looks up, somewhat coldly glaring his way.

TBN nervously gulps.

Back in the kitchen... Lauren figures more casually, "and Tuck? Yeah. He's fun. But...he also seems stuffy. Like maybe kind of too much British stuffy."

Trish makes a face.

She goes, "ohh. Yeah. That's not so good after a while."

In the surveillance room... FDR doubles over, laughing hard.

TBN sharply glares at him.

TBN comments annoyedly, "I'm not British!"

FDR slightly sighs, catching his breath.

Pointing off to the mini-camera feed... FDR cuttingly remarks, "well, they sure think so. And, Lauren always gives you "good grilling" to work with. Right?"

TBN gets up, shaking his head.

He then storms off, slamming the door shut behind him.

But, caught up in the moment... FDR keeps laughing to himself: Not even hearing the door slam.


	5. Chapter 5: A Not So Little Spy War

In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story

Chapter 5:

The next day, at a military outpost modeled playfield...

It's going into the late afternoon.

Camo nets are hung over thick tree branches. Piles of rubber tires are here and there on wooden planks.

Down on the ground, there are eight one level watchtowers out of wood and plenty of tire piles.

Plenty of kids and adults are getting on mostly black military style gear, gray pouches of paintball capsules, and mostly silver lined yellow lensed ski like goggles. They're carrying black paintball guns.

Behind some of the camo nets... Lauren and TBN are getting their gear and paintball guns ready.

Lauren is wearing a gray long sleeved shirt and blue jeans. TBN is wearing a light red T-shirt and ripped blue jeans.

Lauren concludes, "okay. I'm think I'm ready."

She gets her goggles on.

TBN checks, "I think I'm ready too. You ever carried a weapon before?"

Lauren glances at her loaded paintball gun. She faintly chuckles.

She admits kind of awkwardly, "no, just water balloons at parties. I wasn't really good. I kept getting wet. So...yeah: Any ideas for me?"

TBN faintly laughs. Lauren faintly chuckles with a awkward grin.

TBN faintly nods. He figures, "okay. Just keep close to me and keep that end of the weapon well in the other direction from me. I'll cover you and you'll cover me."

Lauren says nervously, "um...okay."

TBN asks in concern, "what's wrong?"

Lauren faintly smiles.

At a near whisper all of a sudden... She points out, "not much. Just... You sure you don't need goggles? People could see right away you're a spy."

TBN faintly laughs.

TBN firmly reasons, "if anyone asks, I'm a ex-soldier. I think I'm covered. But...thank you Lauren."

He loads his paintball gun.

Lauren adds sincerely, "you're welcome Tuck."

She loads her paintball gun.

She walks over to some tires to test it out with a shot. But, nothing's coming out.

TBN puts down his paintball gun.

He walks over.

He checks, "you need some help?"

Lauren concludes, "yeah. Maybe. I think my triggering mechanism is stuck."

She keeps banging it kind of loudly against the tires as springs ache from the paintball gun.

She sighs frustratedly. She glares at the paintball gun.

Meanwhile... FDR is hiding by a camo net, wearing camo military gear and a matching military helmet.

He's loading a small pea shooter with a little dart.

He's faintly smiling to himself as he does.

Kind of tensely... TBN goes, "okay. Just... Just please stop hitting it! You're only..."

TBN is struggling to safely take the paintball gun away from Lauren. Her hands are clenched around it tightly as she's getting ready to determinedly try to bang it again.

Just as Lauren tries to fire the paintball gun though... FDR fires.

The little dart bounces off the safety button on Lauren's paintball gun...while it's unintentionally aimed between TBN's legs in the struggle.

FDR runs for it.

He tumble jumps off the end of some wooden planks, disappearing from sight.

A yellow paintball hits TBN between his legs.

His paintball gun falls on the wood.

He doubles over forward, coughing violently some. A lot of spit comes out of his mouth.

Lauren gets wide eyed and teary eyed.

She drops the paintball gun. It kind of splinters on the wood.

Lauren worriedly cries out, "oh my god! Are you okay?"

She puts two sympathetic hands on his shoulder, ready to try to help him up.

After half a minute... TBN catches his breath.

He straightens up. He kind of firmly nods.

Lauren somberly says, "I shouldn't have tried to fight you. I'm really sorry. Faint sniffle. I just..."

Some tears fall from her face.

But... TBN insists somewhat casually, "no, I'm good. You're okay."

As he says it...he catches from the corner of his eye the little dart on the wood floor.

Lauren voices, "no, I'm sorry. I really don't like it when I can't get a product to work, and... Heavy sigh. I just feel so bad."

She steps back a little as TBN picks up the kind of splintered gun.

He holds it up.

Kind of lying... He says, "I was keeping watch on it before it fell. It's just a bad gun. It's not you."

Lauren very faintly smiles.

Lauren concludes, "I still feel bad. But...you sure?"

TBN puts a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

He kind of confidently says, "yeah. We'll go and get a new one with no stuck safety. I'll cover you."

The teariness in Lauren's eyes start drying up.

Lauren adds more cheerfully, "thank you. I needed that." TBN adds, "you're welcome."

They fast walk down some wooden steps.

They get to the paintball gun bin.

Lauren is picking one out.

Paintball guns fire off. Several people go down in colorful paint bursts by some tires.

A kid laughs at the yellow paint still on TBN's pants.

Some people fire paintballs at TBN. But, TBN side tumbles easy past the incoming paintballs.

He fires paintballs at two of them as he does, taking them down.

The kid is about to fire a paintball at TBN.

As Lauren is testing out her latest paintball gun... It fires a paintball.

The kid goes down in a colorful paint burst of blue.

Lauren chuckles in relief. She goes lightly, "oh my god."

TBN calls back, "that was good!" Lauren adds, "yeah."

Soon, they're standing on top of a watchtower.

They're faintly smiling. They're back to back, firing paintballs.

More people go down left and right.

And now, no one is laughing at the yellow paint still on TBN's pants. They're just enjoying themselves.

Early that night, at a certain house...

The garage walls are mostly cobblestone. The roof is dark gray with some windows from the attic.

The support beams between the walls are darkish blue. A white lined mostly light gray stable and a white lined mostly light gray shed is in the back.

There's a wide grassy field. Off in the center, some white painted tables and wooden chairs are between some trees. A kid with a blue pail is whirling around back there, making rocket noises.

FDR is pulling up in the driveway in his car. And, Lauren is in the co-pilot seat.

What neither of them notice though...is a familiar C.I.A. spy drone hovering over a mostly light yellow house just across the street.

FDR is wearing a formal black suit and white undershirt. His bruises seem mostly gone.

Lauren is wearing a white laced sleeveless dress and her sleek gray black jacket.

Lauren has her hair looking all polished and slightly more curly. She has on faint purplish red lipstick.

In surveillance room 3A... Tuck is sitting there, faintly smiling to himself for some reason.

He's got a ice pack for around his legs. But, he's wearing another pair of blue jeans.

Back at a certain house... FDR wonders, "where is Tuck? He was supposed to be here for the special occasion."

He's acting absentminded as he says it.

Somewhat awkwardly... Lauren starts to go, "umm..."

Turning to her... FDR wonders, "what's wrong?"

Lauren blushes a little.

She explains, "he had to get his pants cleaned...because of a bad paintball gun. Kind of a long story. But, his... Moderate sigh. Well, he said to tell your nana he had to go into overtime at that desk clerk job. But, to be honest with you...he's still kind of sore down there."

FDR makes a uneasy face. He figures, "ouch. Like the Bangladesh incident."

Lauren nervously questions, "what incident?"

FDR is quick to say, "long story."

Lauren suggests, "maybe you should tell me later. I mean, if it's not too classified."

FDR tries to assure, "no. Not for you."

Lauren faintly smiles. FDR faintly smiles back.

FDR gets out a recently bought apple pie from the back of the car.

Lauren and FDR walk up to the dark blue lined white door, holding hands.

Once they get there, FDR pulls his hand away so he can have a free hand to ring the doorbell.

The door opens.

From inside, the house's walls are diagonally stripped mostly dark blue and white.

FDR's nana appears in the doorway.

She has her blondish gray hair tied in a bun. She's wearing a open long sleeved light green woven sweater over a white long sleeved shirt. She also wears a short black shrouded pink and purple floral gown.

Nana greets, "oh, hello."

A little awkwardly... FDR introduces, "uh, Nana, this is Lauren. Lauren, this is my grandmother, Nana."

Nana kind of quickly comments, "so you're the girl who's been putting up with Franklin and Tuck."

Lauren kind of confidently smiles. She just says, "mm-hm."

Nana adds, "it's nice to meet you, Lauren. I've heard quite a bit about you from my grandson."

Lauren adds, "well, thank you. It's nice to meet you too."

They shake hands.

FDR is still standing there next to Lauren, awkwardly so.

Nana courteously concludes, "you're welcome. So, where is Tuck?"

Lauren gives her a explanation, "he's sorry he couldn't make it. He tried to get out of work tonight so he could do it tomorrow. But, he had to work overtime."

Nana nods approvingly.

She figures, "I see. He always was so dedicated."

Just then... FDR holds up the pie still in his hand.

With a polite smile... He tells, "I brought pie."

Nana kind of bluntly deduces, "yeah, well, you know where the kitchen is. Lauren and I have a lot to talk about."

FDR kind of awkwardly nods as he starts his way for the kitchen.

Nana is courteously escorting Lauren in with her hand. Lauren just smiles as she lets her lead the way towards some white double doors.

FDR lays down the pie on the polished cobblestone like kitchen counter.

Suddenly... Nana turns back to FDR, "oh, Franklin?"

FDR pauses. He asks, "yes, nana?"

Nana brings up, "there was a big package at the door. It's addressed to you."

Sounding a little confused... FDR automatically assumes, "where can I...? Oh right. In the back?"

Nana faintly chuckles. She concludes, "no. Just by the kitchen counter. I didn't want the government seal to draw attention. Oh, how the neighbors do like to gossip."

Lauren and FDR look quite nervous for a bit. But, just as quickly, they politely smile.

FDR adds, "thank you." Nana adds, "you're welcome."

Nana opens the double doors, leading Lauren outside.

As she closes the double doors behind her... Lauren can't help but ask, "what package?"

With some mixed feelings all a sudden... Nana says, "oh, I don't know. I never liked opening government packages. In all my years, I've never seen anything good in them."

She gets a little teary eyed.

Lauren gets very quiet as Nana leads her to the stable.

Soon after...

Nana is showing Lauren the horses, the collection of old fashioned fur saddles, and the gallery of pinned up photos on the wooden wall above the saddles.

Lauren smiles.

Lauren says, "oh, the horses are beautiful. These baby pictures are beautiful too."

Nana smiles. She concludes, "thank you. I thought you would."

Lauren wonders, "did he tell you I grew up on a farm in Georgia when I was a kid?"

Nana faintly chuckles. She tells, "oh yes."

Lauren chuckles kind of nervously.

Then, Lauren wonders, "is this FDR?"

She's looking at a picture of a toddler with his mouth open, a faint unibrow, and very dark brown hair.

Nana answers, "yes."

Lauren grins. She comments, "he's cute even with that unibrow."

Nana adds, "I know. He was so cute."

Lauren then asks, "and who are these people?"

She's briefly pointing to a family picture by a purple ribbon.

It's of a certain laughing six year old kid wearing a dark green cap, a black T-shirt, black and white striped gloves, and gray pants. A grinning woman with long very dark red hair is hugging him, wearing a mostly tan gray long sleeved shirt and gray pants.

A faintly grinning man with a light blue and dark blue striped T-shirt and gray pants is also in the picture. He has a arm around the woman. Behind them is a wooden lined screen fence and hints of a garden.

Nana explains somberly, "oh. Those are his parents. They died when he was 9."

Lauren gets teary eyed.

She concludes, "I'm so sorry. He never told me that."

Nana says, "yeah. In a car crash. Or so the cover story was. Faint sniffle."

Lauren asks, "what happened?"

Nana finds it hard to look up. She's getting teary eyed.

After a bit... Nana says, "ten years later, the C.I.A. files were declassified."

Lauren gulps kind of nervously. She questions, "C.I.A?"

Nana reveals, "his father was in the military. The C.I.A. gave him and several others a mission in Russia to stop corruption at the highest levels. They gave them that cover story. He agreed to go under the condition she came with him. But, umm... Faint sniffle. They didn't come back. No one did. Moderate sigh. I never forgave the government since. But, Franklin and Tuck still want to trust them."

Lauren looks nervous and very awkward all at once.

She says, "I'm really sorry."

But, kind of quick to try to lighten the mood... Lauren points to another picture.

She wonders, "who's this?"

Nana faintly smiles.

Nana faintly chuckles. She comments, "you don't miss a thing."

Lauren faintly grins.

Nana recalls, "he wore that Superman costume everywhere. You wouldn't believe the smell."

Lauren faintly chuckles.

Meanwhile, through the kitchen window... The familiar C.I.A. spy drone is watching.

FDR breathes a nervous sigh of relief, thinking he's by himself.

He walks over to the other side of the kitchen counter.

A large cardboard box is lying on its side on the wooden floor.

It has a C.I.A. logo on it...and it's now starting ticking.

FDR quickly tears it open, bent over the package.

He tears it open...to find a analog timer attached to a spherical see through bomb.

It's filled with red and blue paintballs. The countdown is already at 0:01.

And... A little piece of paper taped to the bomb says "from Tuck".

FDR mutters, "shit!"

The bomb explodes in a burst of red and blue paint.

He reactively covers his face with his arms.

But...the rest of his upper body is covered in drippy red and blue paint.

He mutters under his breath, "shit, shit...shit! God, I need a extraction!"

He throws off his paint covered shirt and suit, letting them fall onto the paint stained spots on the floor.

He runs up to the bathroom, locking it behind him.

And meanwhile, in surveillance room 3A... Tuck is kind of doubled over, laughing.

In the bathroom... FDR is desperately trying to wash out the paint from his hair and hands before it dries with soap and water. But, by then, it's already hardening.

He gets teary eyed.

And, as he keeps trying to wash out the paint from his hair and hands... He mutters out loud angrily, "it was Savile Row's finest!"

Around then, out by the stable...

Lauren wonders, "you have a hard time trusting people?"

Nana solemnly remarks, "doesn't everyone at different points?"

Lauren realizes, "that's true. Sometimes I do."

The teariness in their eyes start to dry up.

With some mixed feelings... Nana reveals, "you know... When Franklin heard of the car crash...he's never been quite the same. He worries himself sick. He blames himself because he feels he could've saved them, even after the truth came out. But, you didn't hear it from me."

Lauren faintly chuckles at the last part.

She assures, "I won't tell, nana."

Nana adds, "good."

They both faintly smile.

Then... Lauren's cell phone rings from her jacket.

She says, "I'll be right back."

She walks over to the opposite corner of the stable. She picks up her cell phone.

Lauren answers, "hello? FDR, what's...?"

She gets teary eyed. She faintly sniffles.

Lauren voices, "oh my god, I'm really sorry. Yeah, I... Please just calm down! I'll tell her for you. Okay? Hard sniffle. Really FDR, it's ok. I'm a woman. I understand these things. Okay? Okay."

Lauren hangs up, putting the cell phone away.

From behind her... Nana asks nervously, "was that just...?"

Lauren turns back to her.

She nervously gives FDR's explanation, "yeah. The box was a paint bomb. Probably some kid thought it was a good prank. But...he has paint in his hair and hands, and his suit is ruined."

Nana moderately sighs. She says, "oh dear. He really loved that suit."

Lauren figures, "yeah. As soon as he's finished in the bathroom, I'm going to take him back to his apartment. I'm sorry to cut our visit short. But..."

Nana insists assuringly, "no, I understand. I have a spare bathrobe if you..."

Lauren adds, "yeah, that would be helpful. Thank you."

Nana puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Nana concludes, "you're welcome. He's very lucky to have you."

Lauren faintly smiles. She adds, "thank you."

She starts her way back to the house.

Nana concludes bittersweetly, "and next time, I'll check the box first."

Lauren turns back, facing her from just outside the stable.

Lauren adds, "that would be a good idea. Thank you."

She then fast walks back through the double doors to go find that spare bathrobe.

Two days later, in FDR's and TBN's shared room...

FDR is by himself, swimming underwater in the kind of big light blue tiled private pool.

His bruises are gone. His hair is back to normal, and so are his hands.

He faintly smiles with closed eyes. He's wearing light blue swimming trunks.

After most of a minute... He swims up. He comes up for air.

By his dark gray towels off by the edge of the private pool... His cell phone rings.

FDR hurries over to his towels.

Soon as he dries off... He scrolls through a wall of text messages from Lauren.

They say:

Are you okay? Please get back to me soon. I'm worried. Are you okay? Please get back to...

The call goes missed. But... FDR already knows well who probably did.

He calls Lauren.

After a bit of ringing... Lauren answers kind of nervously, "FDR."

She's walking back to her and Trish's house, carrying her cell phone.

She's wearing a dark brown dress with a low cut neckline. She doesn't have faint purplish red lipstick on her lips anymore. She also has her hair mostly tied back in a bun.

It's late afternoon and she just got back from work.

FDR responds, "hey. I just saw your texts."

Over the phone... Lauren says solemnly, "hey. I've been really worried about you. But... Very faint chuckle. Well, I guess we both really worry."

She pauses on some stone steps. She's at the red brown front door.

FDR faintly chuckles. He reflects, "yeah. Guess we do."

There's a brief awkward silence.

Lauren asks, "how are you?"

FDR responds, "better now. How are you?"

Lauren faintly smiles.

With some mixed feelings... Lauren concludes, "okay. I went on my date with Tuck yesterday. Faint chuckle. We raced spy cars on the test track. It was amazing. But...I missed you. We both do."

Seeming completely unphased... FDR says, "yeah. I missed you too."

But... He thinks to himself:

Yeah. This is not over, Tuck.

Faint laugh.

You're thinking I'm going to come crying to you in defeat like a little kid.

Good try man. But, I'm still not backing off from our war.

The next day, in the late afternoon...

On FDR's next date... He holds up his C.I.A. badge and says it's "a matter of international security" to get some museum curators to let him and Lauren into a museum artifacts warehouse without question.

Lauren nervously looks to him as they go in. But, FDR and Lauren soon just faintly chuckle and laugh.

Lauren has her hair straightened and down. She's wearing a kind of dark red dress reminiscent of couch cushioning. She also has a curved bar gold bracelet on her right wrist.

FDR is wearing very dark blue dress pants and a dark blue army like shirt.

There's a lot of crates and packaging paper. Australian art posters are everywhere.

Stunned... Lauren suddenly realizes, "oh my... Is this what I think it is?"

FDR confidently goes, "mm-hm. Gustav Klimt. I know he's your favorite artist. So..."

Lauren concludes excitedly, "oh my god. This surprise is incredible! Thank you."

She kisses him.

She then hugs him tight around his side. FDR hugs her back.

Her head is resting over his shoulder, admiring The Kiss painting before them.

FDR smiles. He says, "you're welcome."

Back in the surveillance room... Tuck moderately sighs in his seat.

With some keys at the computer... Tuck faxes in to the F.B.I. a fake criminal record for FDR.

Soon as Lauren and FDR leave the warehouse arm in arm... They hear police sirens.

Very nervously... Lauren wonders, "FDR? Did we just get found out?"

FDR gets a ring on his cell phone.

He picks up his phone to find a text message from Tuck:

Did you just try to smuggle knock offs, man? Don't tell me I didn't warn you. ;)

Then, some police cars pull up in the parking lot.

As he looks up from his cell phone... FDR sees them.

He mutters under his breath, "son of a bitch."

The next night...

On Tuck's next date... He takes Lauren to his dad's loft all the way out in Texas: With help from a C.I.A. private jet on the grounds of "a matter of national security".

His very rude brutish muscular military dad has gone out for drinks with his drinking buddies.

Tuck and him only tolerate each other anyway. So, he was happy with letting Tuck crash there for the night...long as they don't meet each other in person or shoot up his place.

The floor is half covered in brown animal skins and half metal. Walls are mostly pale green. Black and white photos memorabilia of are hung up over them: From veterans posing in front of a old missile base to rolling in tanks firing cannons in a World War II war field.

A spare jagged edged mostly jet black motorcycle is in the corner. Cage like spheres encasing white lights are hung over the ceiling. Some black railing and matching stairs go up to the bedroom part, where there's a easy to see dark yellow sheeted bed right by some railing.

A very dark blue desk and file cabinet is in another corner. A stack of military documentary and war movie DVDs on top of the desk and several big alcohol stains around.

Some candles, a green glass bottle of wine, and some wine glasses are by the wood table and very dark yellow couch. They're both in the center of the main area.

Lauren is wearing a silky black sleeved dress. Tuck is wearing a buttoned up tan brown overshirt and blue jeans.

As they come in hand in hand... Tuck somewhat casually goes, "yeah. This is his house."

Looking stunned... Lauren concludes, "wow. This is your shit dad's house. But, this is amazing."

Tuck faintly smiles. He adds, "yeah. Indeed."

Lauren is looking around at all the memorabilia on the walls.

Nervous and thrilled all at once... Lauren concludes, "how really fantastic."

Tuck pulls her in close.

They make out some.

Then... Tuck brings up, "do you know why I knew you would?

Lauren wonders, "no. Why?"

With their arms still wrapped around each other... She starts to fast walk backs over toward the couch, nearly pulling Tuck off his feet by surprise.

Tuck though quickly picks up on this, following her to the couch.

Soon, they're faintly chuckling and laughing.

Lauren is lying on the couch. Tuck is on top of her.

Lauren kisses him.

Then... Tuck states, "because I thought it would be a nice reminder of your uncle. I could be wrong. But, before he passed on, I think he used to be stationed at a missile silo in World War II."

Lauren gets wide eyed. She starts to sit up.

Tuck reactively gets off, sitting by her.

Lauren thinks out loud, "oh my... Wow. I didn't even think of that. But...you're right. I didn't even tell you about him. You are disturbingly good at knowing what I'm thinking."

Tuck faintly chuckles. He suggests, "maybe that's because we've completely fallen in love."

Lauren faintly chuckles. She figures awkwardly, "well...maybe. Sorry. I'm still trying to decide."

Tuck puts a sympathetic hand on hers.

Tuck insists, "it's okay."

Lauren smiles. She breathes a nervous sigh of relief.

She adds, "oh good."

Tuck pulls his hand away. There's a brief nervous silence.

Then... Lauren kind of playfully grins.

Lauren challenges, "okay. When I was young, my uncle wanted me to be in the military like him. Do you know what I thought?"

Tuck admits, "actually... Faint laugh. No. Not really."

Lauren reveals, "I liked my uncle. But, I thought product testing would be more fun and still involve helping people."

Tuck adds, "that's incredible."

Lauren blushes. She says, "thank you. I love my job."

Tuck says, "you're welcome Lauren."

Before she can say anything else... Tuck kind of points to the lit candles.

He asks kind of nervously, "do you think the candles are a bit cheesy?"

Lauren faintly chuckles.

She puts a sympathetic hand on his.

Lauren assures, "no Tuck. I think they're wonderful. This is getting to be the perfect night."

Lauren and Tuck smile. They start making out on the couch, pulling each other close.

In surveillance room 3A... FDR is kind of lying back in his chair, ready with a toy like red button on a plastic cord filled with wires.

He faintly laughs to himself as he presses it.

In Tuck's dad's loft... The sprinkler system suddenly turns on.

Cold sprinkler water rains down.

The thin stemmed glasses of wine shatter.

Tuck and Lauren kind of pull away, shivering and soaked.

They look up. They gasp in great confusion.

But, as they very awkwardly look at each other... They both realize, "FDR."

In surveillance room 3A... FDR moderately groans into his hands.

The next day, in FDR's and Tuck's shared room...

Out through the windows... The sun is setting.

FDR leads Lauren in.

FDR is wearing a very dark blue sweater over a pale pink collared shirt and blue jeans. Lauren is wearing a sleeveless dark red dress and black high heels.

Lauren very faintly smiles, "it's great, FDR. But..."

FDR wonders, "yeah?"

With a warning glare... Lauren insists, "but we still need to talk."

They both sit on the black couch right by the kitchen area.

Kind of lying... FDR tries to assure, "I told you on the phone: It was just a prank."

Lauren moderately sighs.

She kind of nervously argues, "well, it sure didn't feel like that. Not for him."

FDR suddenly gets a little teary eyed, finding it hard to look up at her.

FDR awkwardly says, "I'm sorry. I could even pay him back for the damages with my own money."

Kind of reluctant sounding... Lauren says, "well...okay. But, you should talk to him soon."

FDR concludes, "okay."

Lauren concludes, "maybe we could still have a date. But...I want to think about it a little. Okay?"

She puts a sympathetic hand on his shoulder at the last part.

Still finding it hard to look up... FDR awkwardly answers, "okay."

Lauren adds, "I'll be right back."

She heads up some winding concrete stairs to the pool.

Soon as she's out of sight... FDR sighs heavily into his hands.

And, he mutters somberly to himself, "what have I done?"

Just then... He hears the door slowly open.

FDR ahems. He wipes the teariness from his eyes.

He goes to answer the door, kind of shoving it all the way open.

No one seems to be there.

FDR pulls out his pistol. He cautiously looks ahead to the concrete bunker walled hall.

Suddenly... He feels a sharp prick and sting on his neck.

Tuck drops down from a part of ceiling ahead in a all black stealth suit, making a run for it.

FDR quickly pulls out a tranquilzer dart.

In very mixed feelings... He mutters under his breath, "son of a...!"

FDR falls unconscious in seconds, still holding the pistol.

By then... Lauren comes back down.

She calls out in confusion, "FDR?"

She then sees FDR on the floor.

Lauren gasps, rushing to him.

Lauren murmurs worriedly, "oh my god. FDR?!"

She gets teary eyed.

She checks his pulse.

Lauren moderately sighs with some relief, knowing he's still alive.

Then... She notices the tranquilizer dart that fell from FDR's other hand.

Lauren quickly checks out the windows.

She catches sight of Tuck driving away fast in his car, still in his stealth suit.

She goes back to the tranquilizer dart.

She carefully examines it herself by the kitchen sink, with some paper towels over the sharp end.

Realizing what it is... She very nervously gulps.

Soon, she sharply glares.

And, as she puts down the tranquilizer dart and paper towels... Lauren realizes, "Tuck."

Late that night...

FDR wakes up, still in the room.

He groans, pulling himself up.

He gets up...to find the whole complex torn apart.

Smashed kitchen appliances, TV set screen glass shards, couch pillows, fallen seats, and two open laptops with cracked screens are on the floor.

FDR mutters in shock, "damn."

Tuck is just coming back in...when he sees the complex.

He's shocked, standing speechless.

Fearing the worst... They both quickly check their cell phones.

And, as they look at recent text messages on their phones... They very nervously gulp.

Both text messages say this:

I found out you're secretly at war over me. I got angry.

I'm really sorry for breaking your things. :(

But...we need to talk.

12:30 tomorrow, Trucco's Pizza.

I want to try to make peace with both of you. But, I'll walk if I think I should.

And...one more thing.

Please don't come with a tranquilizer or try to make war. Or, Trish's friends in the F.B.I. are going to bring you both in for questioning.

I really don't want that to happen. Just... Just please don't keep testing me like this.


	6. Chapter 6: Trucco's Pizza

In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story

Chapter 6:

The next morning, in Trish's and Lauren's house...

Trish is sitting on a wide dark green couch: With a bunch of stuffed animal toys and a hand sized stuffed Noah's Ark across it. The couch is in the back of the living room, with double window screen double doors off to the left. The dining room is just past a little hall in the right corner.

Lauren is standing very nervously by the couch, breathing heavily. She's also teary eyed.

Trish is wearing Cheetos stained blue jeans and a white lace dress with matching straps over her shoulders. She's also wearing pineapple slices like very pale gray earrings.

Lauren has her hair mostly tied back in a bun. She's wearing a black sleeveless top and worn out blue jeans.

She keeps murmuring under her breath, "I feel like I'm going crazy. But, I'm not waking up."

Not taking it anymore... Trish calls out, "oh my god: I know! Just... Heavy sigh. Just breathe in and out. And, come sit down. Please. You're getting me worried, Lauren."

She's a little teary eyed herself.

Lauren nervously sighs as she finally sits down.

She faintly smiles: Faintly physically relieved at finally sitting down.

After a bit... Lauren turns to her.

She somberly wonders, "what do I do, Trish?! I loved dates with these guys. Then... Hard sniffle! I find out they were secretly at war over me."

Trish very faintly smiles. She tries to be assuring, "you know, some girls would think of it as the greatest form of flattery. Maybe you could just pick and..."

Lauren mutters back, "well, not everyone wants to go to a strip club. It's not that easy with these guys!"

Some silent tears fall from her face. She sniffles hard.

Trish puts her comforting hands on hers.

She supposes, "I know it isn't. But... What if it soon gets to be?"

Looking very nervous and confused all at once... Lauren says, "what?"

Trish very faintly chuckles.

She figures, "I already called my friends in the F.B.I. like you told me. They'll be there to protect you. Even if both of those guys try something, I'm sure the worst is over."

Lauren wipes some teariness from her eyes. She very faintly smiles.

She concludes, "okay. Maybe that's true. But...I'm still worried."

Trish comments, "that's okay. I know you do. But...why don't we get into decision-making mode?"

Lauren brings up nervously, "you mean for choosing a guy? You sure?"

Trish points out, "I know you're not sure now if you should. But...what if you walk in and find out they're still both good guys? Then what? You're going to not stay out there and get flexible? I want you to be happy."

Lauren realizes kind of awkwardly, "wow. You're right. Faint chuckle. Maybe it'll be helpful too: For what ever happens at Trucco's Pizza."

Trish more lightly says, "that's the spirit. So...who are you choosing?"

After a bit of thinking it over though... Lauren suddenly seems nervous all over again.

Trish's four year old son Linus comes over to Trish.

He has medium dark brown hair. He's wearing a mostly light blue T-shirt with a AT-ST on it and carrying a kind of torn up baseball mitt.

Trish faintly smiles. She says, "hey, buddy."

Linus asks, "mom, can you fix this?"

Trish pats him lightly on the head.

She mostly assures, "in a few minutes. You can get the chocolate bar in your room."

Linus smiles. He says, "all right mom."

He leaves them be, excitedly running up to his room.

Lauren very faintly smiles, watching him go.

Trish puts down the baseball mitt to the side as he heads up.

Then... Lauren wonders, "do you think it's possible to love two people equally?"

Trish tilts her head to the side a little as she faces her.

She figures, "love? Yes. Be in love with two people and they love you back? Moderate sigh. Sorry. I'd like it to be that easy for women everywhere. But... Spy or no spy, that's never a easy coupling."

Lauren faintly nods. She sighs nervously though.

Trish adds, "I know what I think you should do to choose."

Lauren openly concludes, "all right. Go ahead."

Trish faintly smiles. She adds, "you're welcome."

Lauren very faintly chuckles.

Then... Trish reflects, "I'd think: Don't choose the better guy. Choose the guy that'll make you go on as the better couple. Very faint chuckle. I mean, I know Bob was fat and ridiculous. But, he was my fat and my ridiculous. And, I liked the way that I was with him: Spying, tartar sauce, balls, and the birds and bees. Just please promise me something."

Lauren faintly smiles.

Sounding a little better... Lauren kind of nervously asks, "okay. What?"

Trish gets teary eyed again. She puts a sympathetic hand on hers.

Trish more solemnly says, "who ever you choose...please make sure he's not gonna die on the job. I don't want you to go through that."

Very nervously... Lauren murmurs, "oh my god Trish. Heavy sigh. Hard sniffle. I know you mean well. But, that's not helpful now."

Trish awkwardly apologizes, "I'm sorry." Lauren insists, "it's okay."

Then... Lauren concludes, "I mean... I hope so, Trish."

Trish adds, "so do I."

Trish gets up, going up the stairs with the baseball mitt.

They both very faintly smile to each other as she goes up.

As 12:30 P.M. draws near...

FDR and Tuck are wearing black suits and matching silvery spy watches. Tuck is wearing a dark blue collared shirt. FDR is wearing a light blue collared shirt.

The sun kind of glares in their eyes as they walk down a corner of sidewalk.

Tuck sighs heavily. He wonders offhandedly, "should you explain first, or...?"

FDR very faintly laughs. He comments kind of nervously, "you tranquilized me just before I was about to call you and call it off. You tell me."

Tuck just shakes his head annoyedly and keeps walking.

Kind of annoyedly... FDR asks lowly, "what?!"

Tuck adds kind of coldly, "forget it, Franklin."

Soon, they both come up to a glass door. Some government agents wearing black are sitting on a bench across the street, pretending to read books with white THs on the black covers.

Through the glass door, there's a neon sign with Trucco's Pizza in red over a white blocky wall.

FDR and Tuck nervously walk through the door. Tuck goes first.

A cobblestone fireplace is in back. The counter and cashier are silvery, reminiscent of a popcorn popper.

The semi-casual lounge like area has black chairs around black and white swirled tablecloths on tables.

Most of them are vacant with most people having just finished lunch. But, some government agents without black sunglasses are all sharing a table: Eating a large pizza together to try to not arouse suspicion.

And, sitting in a reserved table for three by herself...is Lauren.

She's wearing her black sunglasses and has her hair down. She brought her handbag with her.

She seems to be kind of sweaty from just how nervous she is. But, she keeps sitting up: Not looking away much at all from a certain direction.

FDR nervously gulps.

Tuck start to says, "um...hello. Could we...?"

Lauren is quick to say, "yes. Please."

FDR and Tuck nervously sit down in the two chairs.

Then... Lauren checks worriedly, "you sure you are not going to try to kill each other?"

Trying to sound casual... FDR says, "it's a crying shame you don't trust us. But... Heavy sigh. I guess we deserve it."

Lauren somberly mutters, "you sure do."

There's a very nervous silence between the three of them.

After a few long minutes though... Lauren sighs in some relief.

She takes off her sunglasses, revealing her teary eyes under them.

Almost at the same time... FDR and Tuck ask, "are you okay?"

Lauren very faintly chuckles. She comments, "good grief. We came to talk about your war over me, and that's all you can say to me?"

FDR and Tuck nervously tap their fingers on the table, looking down.

After a bit... Lauren says, "okay. I got a notepad and pen. It might help."

As she gets out her notepad though... FDR suddenly gets up.

Some F.B.I. agents from the other table kind of frantically try to clean up their hands with hand sanitizer.

But... FDR calls back, "it's okay, men. I'm not trying to get a gun or something."

He puts his hands out as he says it.

Looking fairly confused... Lauren asks, "FDR? What are you...?"

FDR heavily sighs. He gets teary eyed.

He says, "it's all my fault. Faint sniffle. Tuck and I agreed that if I let dating compromise me, he'd take me out. I should go hand in my resignation."

Lauren stares at him, wide eyed and shocked.

Tuck starts to argue, "FDR? What are you...?!"

FDR somberly concludes, "I'm really sorry. I should have never gotten into the picture. Faint sniffle. Good luck, Tuck. She deserves you more than I ever could."

He leaves his pistol on its side on the table.

He starts to walk away, fighting the urge to cry.

Lauren starts to say, "Tuck? Is this...?"

Tuck gets teary eyed.

Just then... He says kind of loudly, "no. It's both our faults."

Just then, in a jet black van...

Karl Heinrich is driving down the street.

In his rearview mirror... He sees Trucco's Pizza...and FDR starting to walk away.

Karl Heinrich smirks to himself.

Over a mostly gray Chinese walkie talkie... He says, "we got them now. You know the plan."

He drives around the back of Trucco's Pizza...while fourteen more jet black vans are parking around the place.

Back with Lauren...

FDR pauses. He sighs heavily.

He reluctantly turns back to Tuck and Lauren.

And, he mutters, "shit. I was just trying to..."

Lauren finishes the thought, "...protect Tuck."

FDR sits back down.

He admits very nervously, "yeah. But...I hit the safety button with a dart. That means I started the whole thing. Faint sniffle. I took reconning me with you too seriously."

Lauren sighs heavily into her hand.

After a bit... She realizes, "okay. Okay. Now it's all getting to be kind of rational to me."

She puts away the notepad.

Turning to Tuck... Lauren brings up, "you sent a paintball surprise of your own to FDR, didn't you?"

Tuck faintly nods. He says, "yeah. Yeah, I did."

There's a nervous silence.

Suddenly... Lauren wonders nervously, "you know why I still called you?"

Tuck and FDR both say no.

Lauren somberly admits, "well... When I first found out what Bob does for a living... Heavy sigh. It was my senior year in high school. I started worrying more: About a lot. I started constantly calling Steve, constantly stalking him. And then, a few weeks later...he left me. Hard sniffle! Through high school, I already left my friends and family behind to spend all my time with him. Trish was a new friend. But, she... She's the only one who didn't leave me. Hard sniffle! I never thought I'd meet another guy to really love. But, now...where are we? Two otherwise amazing guys walk into my life, and I was about to leave you. I'd hate myself if I didn't at least try to make peace with you."

Almost at the same time... FDR and Tuck say, "oh god."

They're both shaken, teary eyed.

Some silent tears fall on the table.

The teariness in Lauren's eyes start to dry.

Lauren kind of assures, "that's okay. I think I'm mostly over him now...now that I really know why he left me: Now that I know better than to make a really big mistake by walking away from you."

FDR very faintly smiles. He kind of casually points out, "well...we aren't at war now."

Tuck very faintly smiles. He adds kind of casually, "yeah. We're really not."

Lauren puts sympathetic hands on both of theirs.

Lauren very faintly smiles. And, she says, "and I'm glad."

There's a calm silence.

After a bit... Lauren wonders more casually, "so...do you guys want to know my decision?"

FDR says, "yeah. Whoever you pick, I can take it like a gentleman."

Tuck asks, "are you kidding? Trick question. We really do."

Lauren faintly grins.

She starts to tell, "well..."

Then, suddenly... Shots are fired.

Tuck calls out, "get down!"

At the same time, Tuck kicks the table down on its side.

Glass windows, the glass door, Lauren's sunglasses... They shatter from the bullets.

Some people run frantically for the back door.

Bullets make holes through the fallen table. But, none of them hit Tuck.

Tuck, Lauren, and FDR duck behind it. Tuck and FDR get out their pistols.

Ten guys with sleek gray jackets fire their assault rifles at the F.B.I. agents. Most of the F.B.I. agents left and right fire their pistols at them.

Two on both sides fall dead.

Three guys with sleek gray jackets are about to fire more bullets from their assault rifles.

But, just as quickly... FDR and Tuck fire pistols.

All three of Heinrich's men bend down, clutching their dark red liquid dripping legs and dropping their rifles.

FDR checks, "are you okay, Lauren?"

Kind of loudly over the bullets... Lauren concludes lightly, "yeah. I got two incredible spies to protect me from harm."

FDR and Tuck faintly smile back to her.

Then... Their smiles fade.

Caught off guard in the moment... They're both punched down violently by some of Heinrich's men.

Lauren cries out, "no! ! !"

She gets teary eyed.

She rushes over to look for a fork, a knife... Anything to stab with.

FDR and Tuck groan violently on their sides, struggling to get up.

FDR violently punches away two of Heinrich's men.

One of them crashes into the crashing down neon sign. He falls unconscious, with heavy bruises and burns on his head.

Tuck violently kicks up one of Heinrich's men into another.

They both crash into the counter. They both fall unconscious, with heavy bruises all over.

Twenty more men with sleek gray jackets walk in...firing assault rifles at the F.B.I. agents, Tuck, and FDR.

Frustratedly... FDR calls out, "shit! Where are all these guys coming from?!"

Tuck calls back, "I'm not going out and asking them! You want to?!"

FDR and Tuck duck tumble behind the counter...seconds before more bullets make little holes in it.

The F.B.I. agents are all groaning violently on their sides. Some of them fall dead in seconds.

A little out of breath... Tuck suddenly asks, "Franklin?"

A little out of breath... FDR says, "yeah Tuck?"

Tuck realizes, "where's Lauren?"

FDR and Tuck look at each other very nervously.

Around then...

In the back of the building... Lauren screams, "let go of me!"

She's being dragged away by three of Heinrich's men.

Karl Heinrich and another of his men open up the back of his van.

Karl coldly figures, "that's where you're wrong. I don't want you: I want FDR and Tuck."

Even as Heinrich's men put Lauren down in the back... Lauren very faintly chuckles.

Karl asks, "something funny about this to you?"

He gets back into the van, taking the wheel.

Lauren confidently says, "I don't know you. But, I know they're going to save me. I believe in them."

Karl faintly laughs. He mutters bitterly, "they can try."

Soon, most of Heinrich's men are falling back: Getting back into the vans to follow his van for the highways.

Not long after...

Soon as they see a clear path to the backdoor... FDR and Tuck run out the back.

But, by then... All that's left there is Lauren's tossed aside handbag.

They run back inside.

But...they quickly realize Heinrich's men are gone.

FDR clenches his fists.

He mutters under his breath, "damn!"

Tuck puts a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

He says, "it's okay man. It's okay: I..."

Then... Both their cell phones ring.

They quickly pick up.

Almost at the same time... They both say, "hi?"

On the other end... Karl says, "FDR, Tuck. Hello."

FDR and Tuck both realize, "Heinrich."

Karl concludes, "yes. I was busy taking over the Asian underground. Some turned up moles, some dirtied tailored suits... The spy world can be murder. But, I'm still angry for you killing my brother Jonas. He was more than my brother: He was my best friend. Faint laugh. I'll kill Lauren. Girlfriend, sister... It does not matter. She'll fall on a speeding car...just like my brother. I'll kill everyone else you care about and then take back that invisible missile! Then you'll know how it feels to have no best friends in the world. That's how I want you."

He then hangs up.

After a bit... FDR turns back to Tuck, "so...what were you just about to tell me?"

Tuck faintly smiles.

He raises his arm with his spy watch.

The center light up red arrow on the watch's face is already mostly pointing northeast.


	7. Chapter 7: Unstoppable

In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story

Chapter 7:

Tuck explains, "it's okay man: I bugged her earrings with a sat tracker. After asking, of course."

FDR faintly smiles. He faintly laughs.

FDR adds, "no way. I also bugged her."

Seeming kind of amused... Tuck asks, "really?"

Then... FDR realizes he has subconsciously moved his hand very near a awkward place by tuck's side.

FDR goes ahem. He pulls his hand away.

To FDR's chagrin, Tuck just faintly laughs.

Then... Trish comes in, carrying Lauren's recently dusted off handbag.

She questions nervously, "where's Lauren?"

Tuck kind of nervously explains, "Karl Heinrich kidnapped her to try to kill her. But, we got sat trackers on her."

Without hesitance... FDR adds, "yeah."

Completely unphased... Trish starts to suggest, "yeah, sure. I have my car in back if you..."

Trish kind of points to the back.

FDR is quick to add, "all right. Let's go."

FDR, Tuck, and Trish fast walk through the back door.

Trish thinks to herself:

Slight sigh. Shit.

It's time I call the F.B.I. for a better wire for Lauren to reach me. Only not in sunglasses.

Police sirens are heard as police cars are driving up outside.

Out back... Trish gets into the driver's seat of her tan buggy. The pale red roof is retracted in the back.

Tuck's nose cringes. FDR waves a hand over his nose.

FDR comments, "god, that smells. Did Heinrich toss a gas grenade?"

They both start to get into the car. Tuck is about to get into the co-pilot seat.

A little awkwardly... Trish says, "I'm sorry. That's me."

He and FDR suddenly both get into the back of the car, buckling up.

Tuck concludes, "wow. What did you drink?"

Trish buckles up and starts the car.

Trish admits, "um...I shower once a week and on special occasions. I really like my man stink."

She faintly smiles on the last part.

Almost at the same time... FDR and Tuck goes, "oh god."

They look like they're about to hurl.

Trish starts driving, speed turning past some cars going another way.

Trish mostly assures, "it's okay. I know that turns away most people."

FDR comments offhandedly, "yeah, no kidding."

Soon...

In the back of Trish's car... FDR recalls, "yeah. I bugged her while we were making out."

Tuck turns to him in near disbelief.

He says, "wait. You mean with tongue?"

FDR faintly smiles. He figures casually, "hey. We were in a F.B.I. cell before my "criminal past" came up fake. I assured her it would. We got bored."

Tuck faintly laughs, kind of shaking his head.

He lightly remarks, "god. You're a animal."

FDR faintly laughs.

Trish is driving her car down several blocks. Some cars honk noisily as she speeds past them.

A sloping up ramp for the highways is getting closer.

Tuck asks, "did you at least give her that one that...?"

FDR casually reasons, "the one that comes out the other end? Yeah. Of course I did."

Tuck calmly adds, "okay, good."

FDR concludes, "actually, she seemed to also really like it. Faint awkward laugh. We kept making out on the way back. Even I was exhausted when we got out of the police car."

Looking stunned... Tuck figures, "wow. You know, she kept trying to feel me up when I bugged her earrings."

FDR faintly laughs.

Suddenly... Trish suddenly shouts enthusiastically, "yes! You found her secret fetish!"

Her arms are out high and off the wheel.

Tuck nervously calls out, "Trish!"

FDR nervously looks ahead. He has a hand on the side car door, ready to tumble out.

Several cars honk noisily behind Trish's car.

The car starts to grind against the side of the ramp. It's about to crash.

Just then... Trish quickly puts her hands back on the wheel.

She drives hard right, barely avoiding the side of the ramp.

Trish nervously breathes in and out. She blushes.

Embarrassed... Trish says, "sorry. I'm just so proud of her...and you guys."

FDR and Tuck faintly smile at the thought.

Trish turns back for a second, faintly smiling back.

Trish though keeps driving hard right, coming up to the highways.

They're over a bent pipe shaped concrete bridge, along with rows of cars.

FDR comments, "you should've let her, man."

Tuck adds, "if Lauren decides to stay with me...maybe I will."

FDR just firmly nods, still faintly smiling.

Trish checks, "where do we go now?"

Tuck and FDR check the turning light red arrows on their spy watches.

Tuck is quick to answer, "just keep going up to the exit to Pres Choice 9."

Trish acknowledges, "okay."

After coming back down from the bridge... Trish drives her car past a fancy office building's outside pool.

On the nearest highway past the pool... Fifteen black vans are opening their side windows.

They fire some of their assault rifles at several passing cars.

Bullet holes cover the back of the cars.

Drivers scream...as flaming pieces of their cars's gas tanks explode off into the air.

A massive pile up is forming.

Several cars crash into each other, knocked off their wheels.

The black vans speed past no problem.

FDR and Tuck are quick to catch the exploding pieces of gas tanks in the air.

FDR mutters, "shit!"

Trish nervously breathes in and out some. But, she keeps driving for the next exit.

She makes some hard turns past the pileup and flaming car parts.

FDR can't help but ask, "have you done this before?"

Trish faintly chuckles. She recalls, "I've done this with Bob. I got ways with spies."

FDR and Tuck faintly laugh.

They start catching up to the black vans.

But then... Two of them open up in the back.

From the same two vans... Some of Heinrich's men fire assault rifles.

Looking very nervous now... Trish calls out, "shit!"

She left hard turns the car away from the incoming storm of bullets.

The back tires are hit. Some residing flames run down the back.

FDR and Tuck jump for it.

Trish jump slides out over the car door.

The car flips over some...before crashing into the side of the highway.

FDR and Tuck tumble kind of easily to their feet.

Trish groans violently some, clutching her legs.

FDR and Tuck start to rush over to her.

But... Trish insists, "it's okay. Violent groan. I'll get the F.B.I to get me: Go!"

She's already pulling out her cell phone.

FDR and Tuck pause.

They get teary eyed, looking torn.

But, with some nervous gulps... They run for a salvageable red jeep.

FDR very faintly smiles Trish's way.

Tuck gets into the driver's seat. FDR gets into the co-pilot seat.

Tuck is speed driving the jeep, continuing up the highway.

Not long after...

Tuck's commandeered jeep is catching up to the black vans.

Police and ambulance sirens are going off a ways back down the highway.

FDR fires the last bullets from his pistol...right at Heinrich's men in the two open backs of the vans.

They fall dead.

FDR jumps over to one of the open backs of the vans.

He takes some of their mags to reload his pistol.

Then, with a carefully aimed shot... He shoots the driver.

He falls dead. Some dark red liquid hits the windshield.

Soon, with another lift from Tuck... FDR makes it to the driver's seat.

FDR helps him in to the co-pilot seat.

They let the jeep speed crash into another van up ahead.

Several of the black vans crash into each other in a pile up.

Thinking they're double crossing each other... Most of Heinrich's men from Japan and China come storming out of most all of the vans, pulling out their assault rifles.

They're firing at each other, forgetting all about Karl Heinrich.

Soon, FDR is driving the commandeered van up to Karl's: The only one left.

The red arrows on his and Tuck's spy watches point right to it.

In his rearview mirror... Karl Heinrich sees them.

He gets a assault rifle out, rolling down his side window.

His man in the co-pilot seat takes the wheel.

In the commandeered van... Tuck tells, "I'm going to do a reverse Harrison."

FDR asks nervously, "what? Are you crazy? You could get killed trying!"

Tuck moderately sighs.

He insists determinedly, "just...just trust me."

FDR doesn't argue. He just firmly nods.

FDR opens Tuck's side window. Tuck gets out one of the assault rifles.

FDR drives the commandeered van up to the side facing Karl's co-driver.

He slams it hard into the van...knocking the several men in the back off their feet.

They groan violently some, clutching their heads. Their assault rifles go flying.

Lauren faintly smiles knowingly. She starts to get up.

Both vans are coming up on a stretch of the 310 Freeway. Orange construction cones and equipment are everywhere.

But, past that stretch of freeway...is Karl Heinrich's planned stop all along for Lauren: A gap in the high up freeway yet to be constructed, looking over a busy highway.

Tuck smash hurls the assault rifle through the side window...knocking out Karl's co-driver.

Glass shatters.

Tuck calls out, "hey, Heinrich! Miss me?"

Karl Heinrich glares angrily.

He takes the wheel with one hand.

He steer slams the van hard into FDR's commandeered van.

FDR struggles to steer it clear of some construction equipment.

But...the commandeered van speed crashes into a crane arm.

Glass shatters across the van instantly.

FDR and Tuck jump tumble out through the side doors.

The impact alone rattles the gas tank loose...exploding in flames behind them.

As FDR and Tuck struggle to their feet... Karl Heinrich gets ready to fire the assault rifle.

He viciously smirks. He comments, "not what I planned. But...I'm flexible."

Then though, from behind... Lauren remarks, "you should've got your money back. This rifle has a defect."

In another second... She fires away the exploding off assault rifle.

She grabbed one of the other men's assault rifles to fire into Heinrich's assault rifle in mid-fire.

The assault rifle explodes into the windshield.

The explosion shines brightly. Glass rains down in flaming shards.

Karl Heinrich groans, reactively covering his eyes.

The van is speeding out of control.

And, without looking back... Lauren opens the back of the van.

She runs out, running to catch up to FDR and Tuck.

They're all kind of out of breath. But, they're all faintly smiling.

Tuck starts to ask, "wait. Did you just take care of...?"

FDR faintly laughs. He goes, "wow. You're incredible."

Lauren blushes a little. She adds somewhat nervously, "thank you."

Just then... They hear a explosion.

The van crashes into some construction equipment.

And, in the explosion... It's tumbling down the freeway...right in their direction.

Lauren gasps.

She's about to try to run under it in time.

But, just as she's about to... Reality kicks in: Realizing she's not really as athletic as a spy.

Teary eyed... She mutters under her breath, "shit!"

She's standing kind of frozen in fear in the middle of the freeway: Not sure of what to do now in time to not get crushed by the tumbling van.

Suddenly... She hears FDR and Tuck both calling out to her.

They've taken sides of the wide section of freeway. They're both motioning to her with their hands.

In several seconds...

The van tumbles off the gap of freeway...falling into the highway below.

Hints of dark red liquid splatter cover the hood of the van.

Everyone inside dies from the impact alone...as several cars crash into the smoking wreckage in a massive pileup.

Meanwhile, back up on the 310 Freeway...

Lauren closes her eyes...reaching out to both of them.

Not stopping to ask right now... FDR and Tuck both take her by the hand.

They tumble together off the gap of freeway...before FDR and Tuck pull on their very flat emergency parachutes built into their suits.

Two black emergency parachutes come out with big dark green C.I.A. logos, slowing their descent.

They all breathe a heavy sigh of relief...as their feet touch down on a rectangular based walled edge of highway.

They hug each other.

They just stay like that for several long minutes, faintly chuckling and laughing in relief.

Soon... They're all sitting down next to each other.

FDR and Tuck are looking out to the police cars and ambulances. Lauren is trying hard not to, looking down nervously.

Tuck checks something on his cell phone. He then faintly smiles.

FDR checks, "are you okay?"

Lauren looks up.

More cheerfully... She says, "yeah. I am now. How is Trish?"

Tuck mostly assures, "her car was shot by Heinrich's men. The F.B.I. is making sure she gets good care in the hospital. But, she doesn't need surgery. I just texted her to be sure. She's going to be all right, Lauren."

Lauren sighs in relief. She says, "oh, that's good. Thank you."

Tuck firmly nods. He adds, "you're welcome."

There's a awkward silence.

Then... FDR highlights, "sure. That's good. And, even though we all just barely lived through taking down Heinrich... Were you just about to tell us your decision? There might not be a better time than now."

Lauren faintly chuckles. She faintly smiles.

She concludes, "yes."

FDR kind of annoyedly rolls his eyes. But, he faintly smiles.

He starts to say, "so...?"

Very nervously... Lauren voices, "well... Moderate sigh. I know this is weird. I don't know if it's possible for this not to turn out to be "oh my god, I'm Yoko". But... Faint chuckle. You're both incredible in your own ways. And...I don't want to have to choose. But, if you still feel I should... Faint sniffle. Please just tell me: Because I'll be okay with you choosing for me...because I love you equally."

FDR and Tuck look stunned. Lauren blushes.

After a bit... FDR starts to say nervously, "umm..."

Lauren suddenly gets a little teary eyed.

She puts a sympathetic hand on his.

And, she says, "FDR... Moderate sigh. I know what you might be thinking. You're so caring and incredibly protective. But, before you do something you might regret...please listen to me."

FDR just says, "okay." Lauren adds solemnly, "thank you."

Lauren brings up, "I know you care a lot for your nana. I know you care for me. But... Faint sniffle. I understand if that would be too much for you. I mean... Faint sniffle. Can you really imagine your nana accepting me that way? Can you imagine your family accepting me that way? As polyamorous? I don't think I can."

FDR gets a little teary eyed.

After a bit... FDR solemnly says, "Lauren...I really appreciate what you're saying. I do. But... Faint laugh."

Looking confused... Lauren asks, "what?"

FDR explains, "she doesn't know we're spies. This wouldn't be much different. I'm not sure if I can speak for Tuck. But, at least...I don't think it would be much different."

The teariness in FDR's and Lauren's eyes start drying up. They very faintly smile.

Tuck faintly laughs.

Tuck concludes, "yeah. It would be kind of weird. But... Faint laugh. ...so is the idea of being together with FDR."

Lauren can't help but laugh, kind of doubling over.

Kind of sarcastic... FDR shoots back, "yeah man. "Thank you"."

Tuck faintly smiles. He just adds, "anytime, pal."

Just then noticing FDR's glare... Lauren moderately sighs.

She kind of annoyedly rolls her eyes.

Lauren remarks cuttingly, "good grief. Am I going to have to keep moderating you two?"

Kind of making a face... FDR goes, "ouch."

Tuck adds, "she's got a point, man."

They all faintly laugh and chuckle over that.

After a bit... FDR figures kind of casually, "yeah. So...here's another: What about our apartment?"

Lauren scoots over, sitting between FDR and Tuck.

She casually insists, "oh, that? Please don't worry about it. I'll have the F.B.I. pay for it. Moderate sigh. That was my fault anyway."

She puts sympathetic hands on both of theirs.

Kind of jokingly... FDR wonders, "are we going to have to keep moderating you?"

Lauren playfully punches him.

Tuck faintly laughs.

Lauren kind of warningly glares. She concludes, "I just stopped Heinrich from shooting you. Don't moderate me, or I'll really start testing you two."

There's a brief awkward silence.

But... Lauren starts feeling up both their arms.

She faintly smiles. She assures them, "I'm kidding."

They all faintly chuckle and laugh.

They just sit there for who knows how long...looking out to the mostly clear sky.

A few days later...

FDR and Tuck are kind of nervously standing in Collins's office. They're back to wearing the same collared shirts and suits as a few days ago.

Collins says, "that was a interesting report, FDR."

FDR uncertainly says, "um...thank you boss."

Collins solemnly concludes, "no: Thank you. You stopped Heinrich and others in the C.I.A's most wanted in Asia while we were busy looking for them. You stopped them before they could do serious harm to national security. We're even considering opening a sister spy academy in Japan. The F.B.I. and the C.I.A. wanted to thank you."

FDR and Tuck faintly smile.

Almost at the same time... FDR and Tuck add, "thank you."

Collins adds, "you're welcome."

She then faintly smirks.

She comments, "it figures it would take a woman to really get you two out of the office."

FDR and Tuck both faintly laugh nervously.

They both start thinking to themselves:

Oh my... Does she really know what happened two days ago?

Better not to know. No, we shouldn't.

There's a brief awkward silence.

Dropping the matter... Collins figures, "still... If there's anything we or the F.B.I. can do for you, please let us know. You deserve it, boys."

There's a brief awkward silence.

Tuck says, "thank you. But...I think we're good."

They start to leave.

But... FDR pauses, faintly smiling.

He considers, "actually boss...there is one thing."

Several weeks later, by Trish's and Lauren's house...

The sun is setting.

Construction vehicles with highly paid construction workers are around the house, digging deep under it.

The cover for the digging operation was some rusted pipelines had to be replaced.

The new basement is mostly done.

It's still mostly dirt walls. But, metal planks are holding it up.

Technical guys are also down there, building some surveillance control consoles from the ground up.

Layout for a indoor pool is also down here: Marked with wood planks and some light blue floor tiles.

Inside the house... FDR's and Tuck's TV set, video games, and video game consoles are in front of the couch in the living room. Their boombox is by the kitchen counter on a wood nighttable.

Up in Lauren's room with very light blue walls... There's a kind of recently gotten king sized bed, with mini-Camaros decorated on the dark blue sheets. FDR and Tuck's laptops and spy watches are on two wood nighttables by the white closet doors.

FDR is downstairs, wiring the very dark white Xbox to the TV set. He faintly smiles.

Linus is rushing downstairs, looking excited.

Out in the front of the house... Tuck is standing in the open doorway, wearing black jeans and a red, blue, and white checkered collared buttoned overshirt.

Lauren is wearing a tan brown top with a loose cut down her exposed left shoulder, a brown leather bracelet with a gold buckle around her left wrist, and black jeans. Her hair is slightly curly.

She's standing in front of Tuck, her arms wrapped around his sides.

Tuck faintly smiles.

A dark blue lined tan buggy styled car is pulled up, with Trish in the co-pilot seat. The retractable roof is down.

Trish is wearing a grayish blue jeans like buttoned jacket and a light red strapped sleeveless dress under it.

Lauren adds, "I love you."

Tuck says, "I love you too. You two have a good time."

Lauren grins. She says, "we will."

They pull each other close.

They make out some, with some low groans of pleasure.

Then... Tuck and Lauren pull away.

Lauren waves goodbye to him as she walks to the car.

She gets into the driver's seat, buckling up. Trish is already buckled.

Trish calls back, "and don't let Linus play Ghost Recon! He's not really a guy now: He's four."

Kind of annoyedly... Tuck says, "yeah. All right, Trish."

Trish waves, faintly smiling.

Tuck waves goodbye to both of them.

He closes the door behind him as he goes back into the house.

Lauren starts driving the car down the street.

They're heading for the highways, coming around for the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge.

As they're driving... Trish smiles.

She reflects, "all right. I'm liking these nights out: Living vicariously through your guys and not having to think about Linus every second."

Lauren faintly chuckles. She adds, "I just knew you would admit it one of these days."

Trish concludes, "okay. I know it's more my speed. But...it's more my speed. You sure you're not going to regret getting engaged to FDR?"

Lauren grins.

She briefly holds up her sparkly silvery Superman logo like engagement ring on her left hand.

Lauren reflects, "being with FDR and Tuck... Faint chuckle. It's like a wet dream I'm never waking up from. I never felt so thrilled and loved."

Trish faintly chuckles. She says, "well, I'm impressed and proud of you."

Lauren blushes a little. She adds, "ohh. Thank you."

Trish faintly smiles. She remarks, "I'll even buy you more boxes of wet wipes to blot the dripping."

Lauren chuckles hard, almost having to pull over to catch her breath.

But, on their girl's night out...they keep driving no problem over the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge.

A few days later...

A double propeller C.I.A. issue helicopter is flying over the oceans on a very cloudy day.

In the metallic back of the helicopter... FDR and Tuck are in all black stealth clothes, getting their parachutes on.

And, standing near them is Lauren: In all black stealth clothes. Her hair is mostly tied back in a bun.

Lauren wonders, "you sure I shouldn't test the vector chutes?"

Kind of annoyedly... FDR comments lowly, "oh god! You've said that a hundred times."

Lauren faintly chuckles nervously. She says, "sorry. I just worry about you two."

Tuck concludes, "and we'd never try to change that."

FDR figures, "yeah. We wouldn't try to change you."

Lauren smiles. She says, "ohh. Thank you. You're both so sweet."

FDR and Tuck smile back.

Then... The kind of long metal ramp starts to open.

Rushing in air gusts come and go.

With a arm around her side... FDR kisses Lauren just before walking to the end of the ramp.

Tuck kisses Lauren just before walking to the end of the ramp.

They both high jump off for the ocean, holding each other close.

They briefly kiss...before activating their parachutes.

Two black parachutes come out, making the descent down into the ocean nice and easy.

A night later, in Trish's and Lauren's house...

FDR is sitting on the couch by himself. He's wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans.

A retro techno disco instrumental is playing over the TV.

Then... He hears footsteps.

He turns around.

Just then... He gets hit with a gust of water.

FDR gets up, spitting out some water. His shirt is dripping wet.

To his surprise... He sees Lauren down in her white laced lingerie and bra.

She has her hair straightened and down. She's also holding a dark green water nozzle shaped toy water gun.

Lauren faintly chuckles. She's playfully grinning.

FDR's glare quickly turns to a amused faint smile when he fully sees her.

He says, "hey Lauren. What's going...?"

Lauren supposes suggestively, "I got to bring some toy guns from Smart Consumer Grounds home to test out...kind of off the books. Do you know what I mean?"

FDR laughs, kind of doubling over.

He then catches his breath. He smiles.

FDR steps very close to her. Lauren wraps her arms around his sides.

FDR concludes, "I love it when you talk dirty. But, what about the CHiPs marathon?"

Lauren kind of annoyedly rolls her eyes.

She whispers in his ear, "CHiPs is being recorded. Just come to our room, baby."

Lauren feels up one of his sides. She makes sure to keep holding the water nozzle shaped water gun in the other.

FDR faintly chuckles.

After a bit... FDR is following Lauren up to their bedroom, hand in hand.

They close the bedroom door behind them. The whole room is plastered ahead of time with waterproofing.

Soon, FDR, Tuck, and Lauren are topless in the room.

They're firing nozzle shaped water guns at each other, laughing and chuckling like crazy.

The waterproofed walls are dripping wet.

After around a half hour... They're kind of slip slipping on the waterproofing over the bed as they try to lie down on it.

They're all feeling each other's sides and making out, kind of tumbling over themselves across the waterproofing.

And, through the night... Faint laughing, faint chuckling, and low moans and groans of pleasure come from the room.

 **The End…Or The Start of More Little Spy Wars?**

 **Please Feel Free To Comment On Or Continue This Storyline**


	8. Alternate Ending 1: Hey, Superslick

In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story

Special Feature/Alternate Ending 1: Hey, Superslick

Just after Heinrich's van crash tumble falls into the highway below...

Faint clouds of smoke come from the burning wreckage of construction equipment.

The sun is kind of glaring in Tuck's eyes.

Tuck slightly groans. He rubs his eyes, closing them.

He opens them, looking across the section of freeway.

And, across the freeway... He sees Lauren in FDR's arms.

They've pulled each other close, with their arms wrapped around each other's sides.

FDR checks, "are you okay?"

More cheerfully... She says, "yeah. I am now. But...please. Don't let go."

FDR faintly smiles. He comments, "I won't. Faint laugh. Guess you've made your decision."

He moves his arms up, lightly putting his hands over her cheeks.

Lauren faintly chuckles. She faintly smiles.

She starts feeling up his sides.

Lauren reflects, "yeah. Maybe I am crazy. But, even when we were about to burn...you have the most incredible protective shield I could ever find in a guy. Very faint chuckle. That's not the only thing I love about you. But, it is the most incredible thing. I wanna just melt into you."

FDR faintly awkwardly chuckles. He smiles.

Lauren moves her arms, lightly putting her hands over his neck.

They start to pull each other into a kiss.

Then... Tuck kind of loudly goes ahem.

Tuck faintly smiles. He comments, "hey man. Get a room."

Lauren kind of annoyedly rolls her eyes. FDR kind of annoyedly glares back at Tuck.

Lauren slightly turns to Tuck.

She comments back, "oh my god, Tuck! You two have the same room."

FDR laughs, almost doubling over.

Tuck faintly laughs, raising his hands defeatedly.

He says casually, "okay, okay. You deserve each other. I'm just going to go check my cell phone."

FDR adds, "yeah. Okay."

FDR and Lauren faintly smile to him. Tuck faintly smiles back.

Tuck walks over to the other side of the freeway, taking out his cell phone.

Some certain recent text messages from Trish appear on his cell phone's screen.

Police cars and ambulances are coming down the highway below. The distant sound of sirens can be heard.

A mostly red and white news helicopter is flying over the highway. A blue number 8 is on its side.

FDR wonders, "so...where were we?"

Lauren playfully grins. She reminds him, "I think we were about to kiss. Could we be?"

FDR and Lauren faintly laugh and chuckle.

They pull each other into a kiss.

Soon, they're making out against the walled side of the freeway: Forgetting everything else in the moment.

FDR pulls off her top, leaving her down to her white laced bra.

As they keep making out... Lauren undoes his buttoned shirt.

She pulls off his suit.

Only the sound of the helicopter passing over the highway keeps them from impulsively taking off all their clothes.

FDR pulls her close by the walled side of freeway, shielding her from any news cameras.

Lauren blushes nervously the whole time. But, only a little.

And, as the sound of the helicopter fades away... They both awkwardly smile.

A few days later...

Collins figures, "still... If there's anything we or the F.B.I. can do for you, please let us know. You deserve it, boys."

There's a brief awkward silence.

Tuck says, "thank you. But...I think we're good."

They start to leave.

But, after Tuck leaves... FDR stays in the office.

He turns back to Collins, faintly smiling.

He considers, "actually boss, there is one thing."

A few days later, by a certain martial arts arena...

Tuck is passing by it: The Nakakuma West Side Dojo, with its grayish black roof, light tan Japanese screens, and mostly wooden outside walls.

He's getting teary eyed. He takes a heavy breath.

It's early night.

Tuck is wearing black jeans and a red, blue, and white checkered collared buttoned overshirt.

Then... A dark blue car pulls up in front.

Some bodyguards in black suits are in back. They stay in the car.

Tuck is quick to put a hand on his pistol in his pocket.

But, just as quickly... He takes his empty hand out.

Once he sees who's getting out of the car... He looks quite stunned.

With a firm but very soft toned voice... Katie solemnly says, "hey. So...I found out you have a clean bill of mental health."

She's wearing a gray sweater bunched up and hanging over her white sleeveless top, dark blue jeans, and a brown belt with a gold buckle. She has a hand in her pocket where her dark purple cell phone is.

She has silver hoop earrings, with small computer mouse like silver hanging in the middle of both of them. She also has a tan pink handbag over her shoulder with a long strap.

Kind of suspiciously... Tuck asks, "yeah. Who told you?"

Despite being teary eyed... Katie very faintly smiles.

She solemnly points out, "just a friend you've known for a long time. You know him."

Then... Tuck faintly remembers FDR's text.

It said:

Come alone to the Nakakuma West Side Dojo, 7:00 P.M. You'll thank me later, I swear.

Tuck faintly laughs. He mutters, "god. We both know him."

Katie smirks a little. She adds, "mm-hmm."

She then offers her hand.

Tuck looks at her confused.

Katie faintly laughs. She says, "hi, um...I'm Katie."

Tuck faintly smiles.

Tuck reintroduces himself, "hello. I'm Tuck. Pleased to meet you."

They shake hands.

With mixed feelings... Katie concludes, "it's nice to meet you. Hopefully with no agents sooner than later. But...you can understand?"

She faintly sniffles.

Tuck firmly nods. He concludes, "yeah. Yeah, I do. That's more than fair."

Katie adds, "okay, good."

There's a nervous silence.

After a bit... Tuck nervously brings up, "well...you wanna get some dinner? As a family?"

Katie points out, "I would. But...I think Joe needs more time."

Tuck solemnly just says, "okay."

Katie suggests, "but we can get some dinner. Franklin and Lauren offered to babysit if I couldn't get anyone else."

Tuck realizes, "ohh. Okay."

They both faintly laugh.

Tuck then concludes, "but really: We can do that."

Katie very faintly smiles. She figures, "okay. Then it's time to go."

They both walk to the car.

Katie gets into the driver's seat. Tuck gets in the co-pilot seat.

Soon as they buckle up... Katie is driving them to a kitchen bar hybrid restaurant for their little reunion.

A hour and a half later...

It's dark out.

Katie's car pulls up in front of the Nakakuma West Side Dojo.

Tuck get out of the car, closing the door behind him.

He pats it a little before walking away. But, he's faintly smiling.

Katie waves. She's faintly smiling back.

Tuck waves back.

Then, Katie's car drives away.

Tuck faintly laughs to himself.

Then, as he's walking back to his car in the parking lot... He pauses.

He catches FDR standing by the entrance. He's in black sunglasses and black stealth clothes.

FDR faintly smiles. He says, "hey, man. Nice to happen to see you here."

Looking suspicious all a sudden... Tuck asks, "FDR, what did you do?"

He's pointing to him as he says it.

FDR faintly laughs.

He tries to casually argue, "come on. Can't I just stop by and say hello to my bro?"

He has his arms out as he says it.

Tuck is still looking at him suspiciously.

He asks again, "FDR?"

FDR answers, "okay. I had the C.I.A. pay for Joe's future."

Looking fairly stunned... Tuck questions, "what?"

FDR starts saying outright, "I'm not kidding. College tuition, insurance K to adult, one of the best doctors in the country, money saved in advance for a good lawyer... It's all paid now, pal. Then...well..."

Tensely... Tuck says lowly, "you did more?!"

FDR tries to assure him, "hey, I just visited her. I showed my name on all the payments. I said I knew people in the top that would take care of you if you beat someone to death."

Tuck puts him in a stranglehold by the neck.

Tuck glares. He says, "wait. You don't trust me now? I thought we were family!"

Under his stranglehold... FDR struggles to say, "I... I wasn't trying to... I...can't breathe, Tuck."

Tuck lets him go.

Tuck kind of annoyedly shakes his head.

FDR is catching his breath.

They both nervously sigh.

FDR explains, "what I didn't tell her was that we look out for each other: In spy work and off the field. I doubt you'll really go there again. But, even if you do, I have your back."

Tuck faintly nervously laughs.

He shakes his head annoyedly at him again. But, he's faintly smiling.

Tuck concludes, "I'm not sure if that's completely immoral or considerate."

FDR kind of lightly remarks, "yeah. Well, I call it "spymantic"."

Tuck adds, "still... Thank you, Franklin."

FDR faintly smiles. He adds, "you're welcome, Tuck."

They hug each other, lightly patting each other on the back.

They then walk together to Tuck's car, ready to turn in for the night.

Several weeks later, in Trish's and Lauren's house...

Lauren and FDR are coming in through the double window screen double doors, hand in hand.

After they take their shoes and socks off... They come into the kitchen.

Lauren is wearing a dark red sleeveless dress. She has her hair slightly curly. She also has musical triangle shaped gold heart earrings.

FDR is wearing a black suit, a dark blue collared shirt, and blue jeans.

Lauren smiles. She says, "I had a really good time tonight."

FDR smiles. He adds, "me too."

They pull each other close, about to kiss.

But, then... FDR suddenly says awkwardly, "umm...right. Sorry. I almost forgot."

They pull away.

Lauren gives him a funny look.

She sighs nervously.

FDR looks nervously back to her.

Lauren points out, "okay. You wouldn't tell me now if it wasn't important. What did you almost forget, FDR?"

FDR then faintly smiles.

He pulls out a little gold rimmed black box from his pockets.

FDR says confidently, "I got you something."

Lauren smiles. She asks, "really?"

FDR says, "yeah."

Lauren figures, "I'm sure I'd like to see it."

FDR says, "all right."

He opens up the little box, holding it up in one hand.

And, inside...there's a sparkly silvery Superman logo like engagement ring surrounded by light red.

Lauren blushes a little. She gasps.

She smiles. She gets wide eyed.

She goes, "oh my god! Oh my god, you're really asking me?"

FDR says, "I am. I love you, Lauren."

Lauren concludes, "I love you so much, Franklin. Of course I want to."

She takes the ring.

FDR puts the little box down on the kitchen counter.

But, as Lauren is starting to put on the ring on her left hand... She pauses, deep in thought.

FDR asks nervously, "what? What's wrong?"

Lauren keeps holding the ring in her hand.

After a bit... Lauren kind of nervously admits, "it's not too soon to me. But...you sure this isn't too soon for your nana to accept?"

FDR very faintly laughs. He faintly smiles.

He puts a sympathetic hand on her free hand.

FDR assures her, "Ms. Worries-A-Lot... My nana says there are no mistakes: Only reasons good and bad. My nana also really likes you."

Lauren faintly grins. She adds, "thank you. I needed that."

Sounding a little better... FDR adds, "you're welcome."

Lauren then puts on his Superman logo like engagement ring.

She lets it sparkle a little in the kitchen light, admiring it.

Lauren offhandedly says, "you know..."

FDR wonders, "yeah?"

Lauren adds, "that's kind of a very convenient philosophy."

FDR concludes, "yeah. I believe it too."

Lauren smiles. She says, "well, I can crunch the numbers and add it up into top ten reasons why I love you."

FDR faintly laughs. Lauren faintly chuckles.

Before FDR can say something... She's starting to pull off his suit.

FDR puts his hands on hers.

He heavily sighs.

FDR kind of nervously says, "Lauren... I'd love to. But, Trish can come back soon. I should be a gentleman."

Lauren kind of annoyedly rolls her eyes. But, she's playfully grinning.

She remarks, "good thing I'm not always a lady. Besides... You are my protective shield, and I want so bad to melt into you now."

FDR faintly smiles awkwardly. He remarks back, "well, you're right about that. But...it's kind of hard to be without clothes."

Lauren pulls off his suit anyway. FDR can't help but faintly laugh.

Lauren starts pulling off her own dress.

Soon, she's down to her white laced lingerie and bra.

Then... Lauren whispers in his ear, "we challenge each other, FDR. You sure you're not up to the challenge?"

She's feeling up both his sides as she does.

FDR slightly sighs, looking very amused.

FDR goes, "all right. But, can we turn off the lights?"

Lauren briefly kisses him.

She smiles. She says, "I knew you would say that. Please don't worry about it."

FDR smiles back. He just says, "okay."

Lauren then goes over to turn off the kitchen lights.

FDR is already pulling off his shirt.

Lauren clears off the kitchen counter.

She's carefully putting all the things there on the dining room table: Unplugged plugs and all.

Soon, they're lying topless on the kitchen counter...with Lauren on top of FDR.

They're making out as Lauren feels up his arms and shoulders.

The next minute, she's unzipping his pants.

And, as Trish's and Lauren's car is pulling up... Faint laughing, faint chuckling, and low moans and groans of pleasure come from the kitchen.


	9. Alternate Ending 2: Not Easy Couplings?

In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story

Special Feature/Alternate Ending 2: Not So Easy Couplings?

Just after Heinrich's van crash tumble falls into the highway below...

Faint clouds of smoke come from the burning wreckage of construction equipment.

The sun is kind of glaring in FDR's eyes.

FDR slightly groans. He rubs his eyes, closing them.

He opens them, looking across the section of freeway.

And, across the freeway... He sees Lauren in Tuck's arms.

They've pulled each other close, with their arms wrapped around each other's sides.

They make out some.

Then... FDR checks, "are you okay?"

Lauren and Tuck pull away some. But, they still have their arms wrapped around each other.

More cheerfully... Lauren says, "yeah. Yeah, I am now."

But, noticing FDR looks uncomfortable... They both slightly turn to FDR.

Tuck checks in concern, "forget how we are right now. Are you okay, man?"

FDR kinds of waves it off with his hand in the air.

He insists, "it's nothing. Really. You're the best man I know. You're very lucky to be with Lauren."

He's starting to get teary eyed though.

Lauren kind of nervously says, "thank you. But...you sure you're okay?"

FDR figures, "yeah. I just... Faint laugh. I just am going to go back to our room. I kind of want some time alone, thinking. But, if you need a cleaner or a extraction, feel free to call."

Lauren nervously says, "hopefully not a cleaner to dispose a body. But, all right."

Tuck mostly assures, "it's okay: Usually, we don't need one."

Lauren faintly smiles. She adds, "ohh. Oh good."

Tuck adds, "well...all right. Take care of yourself."

He and FDR kind of awkwardly shake hands.

FDR firmly nods. He says, "thank you. Take care."

Then... He run jumps off the gap of freeway.

He activates his parachute.

Soon, he's touching down on a rectangular walled edge of highway.

Lauren and Tuck turn back to each other.

Police cars and ambulances are coming down the highway below. The distant sound of sirens can be heard.

A mostly red and white news helicopter is flying over the highway. A blue number 8 is on its side.

Tuck figures, "I think it would be good to go ourselves."

Lauren very faintly smiles. She asks, "where are you thinking?"

Tuck offers, "maybe back to the training facility while it's closed?"

Lauren keeps very faintly smiling. She says, "all right. I could really go for going again."

Tuck says, "good. I'll pick you up at 8."

They briefly kiss.

Then, they pull away.

They stand there, hand in hand.

Some police cars are coming up the 310 Freeway to check things out.

Tuck is already getting out his C.I.A. badge to show the police.

Nervously... Lauren considers, "yeah. That's good. But..."

Tuck asks kind of nervously, "what's wrong, Lauren?"

Lauren admits, "I'm...I'm just worried about FDR. I think he's starting to feel depressed because I didn't choose him."

Tuck solemnly admits, "yeah. I'm worried for him as well. He's like my brother. But... Moderate sigh. When he wants to be alone, he means it. On the other hand...if he really is still troubled, he'll tell us."

Lauren asks, "you sure?"

Tuck mostly assures, "I'm sure."

Lauren faintly smiles. She adds, "okay."

Meanwhile... Some certain recent text messages from Trish appear on Tuck's cell phone's screen.

After a police car ride to Trish's and Lauren's house...

Lauren starts to go in through the front door.

She then turns back to Tuck, pausing at the door.

She says, "thank you for coming back with me."

Tuck faintly smiles. He mostly assures, "anytime, Lauren."

Lauren solemnly says, "thank you. But, with Trish in the hospital... Moderate sigh. I'm glad she's going to be okay. But, I want to be there for her. She'd do it for me."

Looking confused... Tuck says, "wait. I still kind of don't understand. Why did we come back just to...?"

Lauren points out awkwardly, "I wanted to check the home phone and get some things for Trish. You're welcome to stay if you want. Really. But, I don't know how long I'll be in the hospital with Trish. And, you haven't even met Linus. So..."

Completely unphased... Tuck concludes, "I understand now. It's okay."

Lauren faintly smiles. She says, "okay. I love you."

Tuck says, "I love you too."

They briefly kiss.

That night, in FDR's and Tuck's shared room...

Tuck is coming back from his date, standing out by the door.

Most everything reinsured hasn't come in yet, and FDR is restlessly trying to sleep under the sheets. So, Tuck thought it was good to stay outside of the room as much as possible.

Soon, Tuck and Lauren are on their cell phones.

Lauren is in her bedroom with the lights out, getting ready to go to sleep.

Mostly under the sheets and in the dark, she's wearing her white laced lingerie and bra.

Over the phone... Tuck figures, "I was thinking of also getting out more spy gadgets and bugs to not officially test out at your place. But, maybe next week."

Lauren goes wide eyed. She playfully grins.

Over the phone... She says, "I already love it. Do you know about...?"

Tuck replies, "yes, I know you love being bugged. Why else do you think I'd bring bugs to your place?"

Lauren blushes a little.

She concludes, "ohh. You're so good at really knowing and caring for people: Specially me."

Tuck faintly smiles. He says, "you're welcome. Sleep well, Lauren."

Lauren concludes, "thank you. I think I will."

She moderately sighs. She yawns.

Nervously... Lauren tries to assure, "try to sleep well, Tuck. I know it's not easy right now. But, your things will come back."

Tuck adds solemnly, "I know. But...thank you."

Lauren tells him, "you're welcome."

They hang up.

But, because of their worries... All of them soon find it hard to sleep.

A few days later...

Collins figures, "still... If there's anything we or the F.B.I. can do for you, please let us know. You deserve it, boys."

There's a brief awkward silence.

Tuck says, "thank you. But...I think we're good."

They start to leave.

But, after Tuck leaves... FDR stays in the office.

He kind of nervously turns back to Collins.

He considers, "actually boss, there is one thing. But..."

Collin is quick to assume, "sorry FDR. But, agent Dive Chair does not like you that way."

FDR moderately sighs. He kind of clenches his fists.

He mutters under his breath, "that's not what I...! Moderate sigh. Just forget it, boss. I should know better than to ask spies for pointers on dating."

Collins looks kind of shaken.

Kind of nervously... She tries to say, "FDR..."

FDR doesn't turn back to her. He just storms out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

Collins heavily sighs.

She's kind of quickly going back to looking through intelligence reports on her desk. But, only because she's very good at her job.

A few weeks later, at Lauren's and Trish's house...

Out in the front... Tuck is standing in the open doorway, wearing black jeans and a red, blue, and white checkered collared buttoned overshirt.

Lauren is wearing a tan brown top with a loose cut down her exposed left shoulder, a brown leather bracelet with a gold buckle around her left wrist, and black jeans. Her hair is slightly curly. She's also wearing silvery cross earrings Tuck bought for her.

She's standing in front of Tuck, her arms wrapped around his sides.

Tuck faintly smiles.

A dark blue lined tan buggy styled car is pulled up, with Trish in the co-pilot seat. The retractable roof is down.

Trish is wearing a grayish blue jeans like buttoned jacket and a light red strapped sleeveless dress under it.

Lauren adds, "I love you."

Tuck says, "I love you too. You two have a good time."

Lauren grins. She says, "we will."

They pull each other close.

They make out some, with some low groans of pleasure.

Then... Tuck and Lauren pull away.

Lauren waves goodbye to him as she walks to the car.

She gets into the driver's seat, buckling up. Trish is already buckled.

Trish calls back, "and don't let Linus play Ghost Recon! He's not really a guy now: He's four."

Kind of annoyedly... Tuck says, "yeah. All right, Trish."

Trish waves, faintly smiling.

Tuck waves goodbye to both of them.

He closes the door behind him as he goes back into the house.

Lauren starts driving the car down the street.

They're heading for the highways, coming around for the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge.

As they're driving... Trish smiles.

She reflects, "all right. I'm liking these nights out: Living vicariously through him and not having to think about Linus every second."

Lauren faintly chuckles. She adds, "I just knew you would admit it one of these days."

Trish faintly chuckles. She says, "well, I'm impressed and proud of you."

Lauren blushes a little. Lauren grins.

She adds, "ohh. Thank you."

After a bit... Lauren reflects, "being with Tuck... Faint chuckle. It's like a wet dream I'm never waking up from. I never felt so thrilled with a guy in my entire life. He's so driven and kind. He's like nice cool bottled water you wanna never get enough of."

Trish faintly smiles. She remarks, "I'll even buy you more boxes of wet wipes to blot the dripping."

Lauren chuckles hard, almost having to pull over to catch her breath.

But, on their girl's night out...they keep driving no problem over the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge.

A few nights later, in FDR's and Tuck's shared room...

FDR is by himself on the couch, with his arms over the back cushioning.

He's wearing a black T-shirt and blue jeans.

He's nervously tapping his fingers over the couch. He looks a little sleepy and pale.

A few mostly empty glass bottles of spilled booze are on the wooden floor.

The reinsured TV and boombox are turned off. The TV remote is banged up, lying near one of the glass bottles.

Then... FDR hears a knock on the door.

FDR heavily sighs into his hands.

After feeling more feeling in his kind of numb arms... He hears a knock again.

FDR heavily sighs.

He walks over to the door anyway.

He answers it, kind of shoving it all the way open.

Once he sees who's at the door... He looks stunned.

He sees Lauren in a mostly dark blue air hostess outfit, nervously stepping in. She has her hair down, slightly curly, and in a kind of dripping wet mess.

She closes the door behind her.

FDR asks incredulously, "Lauren?! What... What the hell is this? You could've at least called for..."

Lauren gulps nervously.

She somberly says, "I'm... I'm sorry. Hard sniffle. But, I lost my cell phone. And... Heavy sigh. I don't know who else to..."

Very nervously... FDR quickly says, "it's going to be okay. Just... Moderate sigh. Please sit down."

Lauren very faintly smiles. She nods.

She sits down on the couch. She sighs in relief at sitting down.

FDR sits next to her.

Very nervously... Lauren asks him, "could you check for bugs? I think I got mites or something."

FDR gulps nervously. He knew immediately what that was code for.

He checks her over for any spy bugs.

As he does... Lauren whispers, "thank you."

FDR doesn't find any spy bugs.

But, from the corner of his eye...he catches something: Hints of a sewn seam for a wig.

A cold glare starts appearing on FDR's face.

Lauren asks, "FDR, what's...?"

FDR shouts, "get out of my room, Trish! Get out!"

The fake Lauren sighs heavily.

Tears start falling from her face.

With her real voice... She murmurs, "shit, I'm sorry. I..."

She then breaks down on the floor, crying.

FDR very nervously stands there, speechless.

After a long minute... FDR apologizes, "Trish... Faint sniffle. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have shouted."

The fake Lauren kind of slowly looks up at him.

She rolls down the rubber face mask over her face...to reveal Trish's kind of sweaty face under it.

She holds the rubber mask in one hand. But, she puts her hands up.

She's breathing nervously in and out as some more tears fall.

After another long minute... Trish nervously admits, "thank you. But...I wasn't trying to hurt you. Faint sniffle! I thought you'd find out who I was quicker...because of your spy bugs. I already knew it. But... Heavy nervous sigh. This isn't a good time, and there probably isn't. Faint sniffle. I understand and I'm sorry."

Trish starts fast walking out the door, teary eyed still.

But... FDR can't help but wonder, "why did you come knowing I'd know? Maybe you should still get out. But... Moderate sigh. I have to be honest: I'd like to at least know why."

Trish pauses at the door, turning back to face him.

She very faintly chuckles.

The tears stop falling, despite the teariness in her eyes.

Trish admits, "I'd never break up Lauren's coupling with any guy. But... Faint sniffle! I came because I thought if you saw me pretending to be Lauren, it would help you feel better. Came pretending to be her... Faint sniffle! ...knowing you'd know... ...to see if I could be as good as her for you."

FDR goes wide eyed.

With mixed feelings... FDR mutters under his breath, "shit, shit, shit... Oh, god. Um...how can I say this without you being hurt again? Heavy sigh. Oh god!"

He kind of falls back on the couch.

He groans. He sighs heavily into his hands.

Trish sits next to him.

There's a very nervous silence.

After a few long minutes... Trish concludes nervously, "umm... I don't know if this will be helpful. I only know a few things about you from Lauren. But... Faint sniffle. You look to be my kind of guy. So, if there is anything beside my man stink that you'd like me to change...I'd least think it with you."

FDR moderately sighs.

Somewhat coldly... He figures, "sorry. Maybe I really appreciate going to all this trouble for me. But...my family wouldn't approve. I respect how you live your life. But, it has a lot of health risks. I worry myself sick anyway. And, well...what's left to really think about?"

Then, surprisingly... Trish faintly chuckles.

Sounding a little better... She pinpoints, "well FDR...here's what I think: Lauren doesn't let me touch her anywhere else but her hands except after I've showered. I haven't to you. But... Faint chuckle. Guys usually get in and shower after dirty deeds. I don't have to because I'm a woman who does whatever shit she wants and no one tells it to my face on the streets. I shower for special occasions. Visiting a family is one. Give me a nice looking Q and A, and I can pass off as pretend clean for you. Faint chuckle. I'd try. But, I can't promise to be completely clean. I get tested before every night I maybe go out. But, I rarely see alarming shit with rubber between and shit. Please tell me if I missed probable alarming shit with me here. Or, if it makes it really easy for you...just tell me to go and I will. Okay?"

FDR sits nervously there, finding it hard to look up.

He then rubs his eyes with one hand, checking if he's going to wake up soon.

But, as he opens them... He realizes he's not dreaming.

After a bit... He asks nervously, "Trish?"

Trish wonders, "yes?"

FDR very faintly chuckles.

Sounding a little better... He figures, "oh god, you're crazy. Maybe I'm going crazy. Maybe it's the alcohol. But... Very faint chuckle. You showered? Because now you have me thinking of a incredible dirty deed we could do."

With her arms out... Trish goes, "yes! I have dirty deeds with you. Oh my god, that's awesome!"

She faintly chuckles. FDR faintly laughs.

Before FDR can say anything... Trish quickly adds, "yes: I showered."

FDR looks kind of uncomfortable as he faintly smiles, still wrapping his head around it all.

Trish is smiling wide as she goes over to the kitchen with the mask.

She starts running water and liquid soap over the inner part of the mask.

Kind of casually... She calls out lowly, "I'll clean the mask up so you don't worry, my superhorniness! Okay?"

FDR laughs, doubling over.

After a bit, he catches his breath.

He calls back, "okay!"

Soon...

Trish is standing by the wall, wearing the Lauren rubber mask over her face.

She's topless, down to her black lingerie and bra.

FDR is pulling his T-shirt off.

Trish starts feeling up his sides and arms. FDR start pulling her in closer.

Trish pulls him in close, lightly putting her hands around his neck.

They kiss.

They start making out.

On impulse... Trish unexpectedly kind of jumps up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

FDR wraps his arms around her lower body, only a little heavy to someone in the spy field.

He brings her to the sheeted bed, lying down on his side.

Trish kind of tumbles alongside him, letting go of his waist.

She chuckles. FDR faintly laughs.

They lie down together more flat faced, with FDR on top of her.

They're making out again.

Trish is feeling up his arms and legs like crazy.

Soon, FDR is starting to pull off his pants. Trish helps him pull it off quicker off the bed.

And, through the night... Faint laughing, faint chuckling, and kind of loud moans and groans of pleasure come from the room.

A few months or so later, in Trish's and Lauren's house...

It's early morning. The sun is just fully coming up.

And, up in Lauren's bedroom... Hints of movement are under the sheets of the king sized bed.

It's kind of dim up here. Hints of familiar faces are on the white pillows.

Ten spilled empty bottles of booze, some glass shards, some empty bags of Cheetos, and little Cheetos crumbs are on the floor.

FDR wakes up, sitting up in the bed.

He's topless, with Cheetos crumbs lined over his face and neck. His hands have some too. They're a little red and feeling a little sore.

His arms and sides are kind of bruised.

He groans, rubbing his eyes with the clean back part of his hands.

Then... He faintly grins, slightly turning to his right.

A little groggy... He says, "hey."

Trish is already sitting up in the bed.

Her hair is only kind of a mess. And, she's not wearing a mask.

She's topless, with Cheetos crumbs lined over her face and neck. Her hands have some too. They're red and feeling sore.

Her arms are kind of red all over.

Trish faintly smiles. She faintly chuckles.

She says, "hello. How are you feeling?"

FDR concludes, "all right. You're my incredible werewolf. But..."

Trish smiles wide. She wonders, "what is it, my superhorniness?"

She puts a comforting hand on his.

FDR asks, "how much did we drink?"

Trish looks kind of amused. She tries to be assuring, "we're not sitting in a jail cell or being interrogated by the C.I.A. We're not in the hospital and we could probably walk. Does it matter?"

FDR nervously brings up, "well...it kind of does when we're getting up in Lauren's bed. I don't remember that."

Trish is lightly feeling up his arms, not caring how sore her hands are.

She insists, "it doesn't matter, FDR. We'll get out and get through it: Even if I have to drive you out there myself, get arrested, and then you smuggle in some blindfolds for dirty deeds so I could extract myself with a horny guard and leave him out for the guards."

FDR laughs, kind of doubling over.

He faintly smiles. He adds, "thank you."

Trish smiles back. She faintly chuckles.

Then... Lauren wakes up with a startle in the bed.

Looking kind of startled herself... Trish stops feeling up FDR's arms.

Tuck starts to get up in the bed. He moderately sighs nervously.

Both him and Lauren are topless.

Tuck has Cheetos crumbs mostly lined around his face and hands. Lauren only has some around her hands and side.

FDR looks very nervous and wide eyed. So does Lauren.

Tuck hiccups a little.

Lauren murmurs, "whew. Ah. Oh my god! This is crazy."

She's very nervously breathing in and out.

Looking pale... Tuck wonders, "did we just..."

FDR nervously finishes the thought, "...do it with each other?"

There's a very awkward silence.

After a bit... Trish smiles wide.

Everyone else in the bed looks at her funny.

Completely unphased... Trish concludes, "you know...we could live our lives like this: If it's what we're all okay with. Same time every Saturday?"

There's a brief awkward silence.

Then... FDR, Tuck, and Lauren faintly smile.

They're laughing and chuckling, almost doubling over.

After catching their breaths though... They all say yes.


	10. Alternate Ending 3: I Love You, Man

In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story

Special Feature/Alternate Ending 3: I Love You, Man

After 12:30 draws near...

FDR very faintly smiles. He kind of casually points out, "well...we aren't at war now."

Tuck very faintly smiles. He adds kind of casually, "yeah. We're really not."

Lauren puts sympathetic hands on both of theirs. FDR and Tuck put sympathetic hands on both of theirs.

Lauren very faintly smiles. And, she says, "and I'm glad."

There's a calm silence.

After a bit... Lauren wonders more casually, "so...do you guys want to know my decision?"

FDR and Tuck look nervous all a sudden.

Tuck says, "Lauren... Moderate sigh. We should tell you something first."

Lauren gets nervous.

She starts to ask, "okay. What do you...?"

Then, suddenly... Shots are fired.

Tuck calls out, "get down!"

At the same time, Tuck kicks the table down on its side.

Glass windows, the glass door, Lauren's sunglasses... They shatter from the bullets.

Some people run frantically for the back door.

Bullets make holes through the fallen table. But, none of them hit Tuck.

Tuck, Lauren, and FDR duck behind it. Tuck and FDR get out their pistols.

After Tuck, FDR, and Lauren touch down on a walled edge of highway...

Very nervously... Lauren voices, "well... Moderate sigh. I know this is weird. I don't know if it's possible for this not to turn out to be "oh my god, I'm Yoko". But... Faint chuckle. You're both incredible in your own ways. And...I don't want to have to choose. But, if you still feel I should... Faint sniffle. Please just tell me: Because I'll be okay with you choosing for me...because I love you equally."

FDR and Tuck look stunned. Lauren blushes.

After a bit... FDR starts to say nervously, "umm..."

Tuck starts to say, "well..."

Lauren suddenly gets teary eyed. She glares.

She asks, "what? I'm too much for both of you? This was all just another sort of game?!"

Almost at the same time... FDR and Tuck say, "Lauren, we were trying to explain. But..."

Lauren moderately sighs. Her glare mostly fades.

She realizes, "you mean back at Trucco's Pizza?"

Tuck adds nervously, "yeah. We're not trying to hurt you. Moderate sigh. Just let us explain. Please."

Sounding a little better... Lauren solemnly says, "okay. What did you two want to tell me?"

FDR reflects nervously, "yeah. Well... We still love you. But...we found we can't really handle dating drama."

Lauren very faintly smiles. The teariness in her eyes starts to dry up.

She says, "ohh. I think I understand now. It's because of your war over me that you've realized it. That's kind of sweet."

FDR and Tuck very faintly smile.

Tuck brings up, "yeah. But...that's not the only thing."

FDR and Tuck are now kind of awkwardly holding hands.

Lauren wonders, "are you about to tell me you're bisexual? Because I'm not going to judge if you are."

FDR suggests kind of nervously, "thank you. But... Well... You want to explain, Tuck? I think you can explain it better than I could."

Tuck concludes kind of reluctantly, "well, okay. If you're sure." FDR insists, "I am."

Lauren turns to tuck.

She asks, "Tuck, what is it you're both trying to tell me?"

Tuck explains, "before we even met you...we've done anything with and for each other. We went to the same C.I.A. entrance exam in Bangladesh. We had to fight each other to see who makes it to the spy academy. And, even though he did kick me in the balls... We've been best friends ever since."

Lauren kind of nervously chuckles a little.

She goes, "oh my god. I'm glad you're both okay. But...I can't imagine."

Sounding a little embarrassed... Tuck concludes, "maybe it's better you can't."

FDR figures, "yeah. But, maybe it's better if you can. Faint chuckle. You should've seen his face when he..."

Tuck and Lauren warningly glare at him.

Kind of cluelessly... FDR asks, "what?"

Tuck kind of shakes his head. Lauren kind of annoyedly rolls her eyes.

Quick to change the subject... Lauren concludes, "yeah. You're best friends. But, why are you...?"

FDR admits, "we've...been starting to think we should go out. Nervous sigh. We got drunk one night. But...yeah."

With mixed feelings... Lauren realizes, "oh. Now it's getting to be rational to me. It's much less drama with you two so close. Isn't it?"

Tuck adds casually, "yeah. It does seem that way."

FDR and Tuck very faintly smile.

Lauren concludes, "all right. That's good for you two. But...I still don't understand something."

FDR asks in concern, "what is it?"

Lauren voices, "you're going to start seeing each other. But, at Trucco's Pizza...why did you keep telling yourselves about who deserves me more? Why didn't you make it clearer with me that you were talking about just being best friends if that's what you really meant?"

FDR faintly chuckles. He comments, "you don't miss things much."

Lauren faintly smiles. She presses, "no. I don't. So...why didn't you?"

Very nervously... FDR thinks out loud, "well...we were thinking sexually. But...you like Hitchcock and relationships. We weren't really sure if you'd go for it."

Lauren chuckles, kind of doubling over.

Looking amused... She wonders, "oh, that was all that was?"

There's a awkward silence.

After a bit... Lauren puts sympathetic hands on both of theirs.

She admits, "you're right. I am that kind of girl. But, for you two...I'll think about it. Okay?"

FDR just says, "okay." Tuck says, "yeah. That's more than fair."

Lauren tells them, "thank you."

They just sit there for who knows how long...looking out to the mostly clear sky.

A few days later, at Collin's office...

Collins figures, "still... If there's anything we or the F.B.I. can do for you, please let us know. You deserve it, boys."

There's a brief awkward silence.

Tuck says, "thank you. But...I think we're good."

They leave.

A few weeks later, in FDR's and Tuck's shared room...

It's dark. Smooth Operator by Sade is playing on their reinsured boombox.

A few mostly empty glass bottles of booze are on the floor.

And, mostly under the sheets... FDR and Tuck are topless and making out.

As more songs by Sade keep playing... They lowly groan and moan with pleasure.

A few weeks later, in Trish's and Lauren's house...

It's early night out.

The mostly jet black radio behind the kitchen counter is playing Me So Horny by 2Live Crew.

Lauren is wearing a dark red sleeveless dress. She has her hair slightly curly. She also is carrying her handbag over her shoulder.

Trish is wearing a black sleeveless dress with a loose cut by the neckline. She has silver hoop earrings. She also has her hair mostly tied back in a bun: Still a little wet from showering.

Some of Trish's F.B.I. agent friends are standing out around the house.

Lauren concludes nervously, "Trish... You sure this is a good idea?"

Trish figures, "yes. One of them is a parent, and I trust him. Besides, I thought we wanted to try double dating together."

Lauren moderately sighs.

She admits, "I do. I just... Moderate sigh. Am I going to ever find a guy that isn't a spy or too much drama? Because usually, they turn out to not work."

Trish faintly chuckles.

Trish hugs her. Lauren hugs her back.

After a bit... They pull away, very faintly smiling to each other.

Looking amused... Trish comments, "Lauren, you already have two guys: I'd be so proud if I was in your dresses. When are you ever going to tuck away the regrets, wake up from getting drunk off your ass, and be more like man stink loving me?"

Lauren blushes a little.

After a bit... She points out kind of nervously, "I really like you as my best friend. But, I just can't be like you Trish. I like holding hands, being taken out to dinner, smelling nice... Maybe it feels too short lived and tragic to me to go find guys just sexually. Moderate sigh. I still don't really know if I can even be just sexually with FDR and Tuck: We had so much fun on dates...until their war over me came to light, and they pretty much signed off on dating."

Trish puts a sympathetic hand on hers.

She concludes, "that's okay. Still...why are we double dating if you don't want to be more like man stink loving me?"

Lauren faintly chuckles. She comments lightly, "hey! I thought I question and worry a lot."

Trish interestingly smiles. She figures, "you still do. I just wanted you to remember for yourself so you don't rush or worry too much into more regrets tonight."

Lauren looks stunned.

She says, "wow. That's disturbingly good of you. Thank you."

Trish adds, "you're welcome. I'm proud to be your wing woman before I go off into my dirty deeds."

Lauren very faintly chuckles. She grins.

Soon... They're walking out through the double window screen double doors hand in hand...heading into their car and driving out for their girl's night out.


End file.
